The First 48
by CharmingWords23
Summary: When Assistant District Attorney Laurel Lance is murdered, Detective Oliver Queen and his partners Detective John Diggle and Tech Analyst Felicity Smoak are on the case. When Oliver realizes one of their own is the next target in the killer's crosshairs, Oliver finds himself racing against the clock to solve the case and save the one person he's realizing he can't live without.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is the first chapter of my new story. Enjoy!

 **Chapter 1**

 **10:00 AM; Hour 1**

 _For homicide detectives, the clock starts ticking the moment they are called. Their chance of solving a murder is cut in half if they don't get a lead within the first 48 hours._

Oliver Queen had never been the type to dread going to work. Maybe back when he'd first graduated from the Academy and begun putting in his time as a beat cop – back then he'd been assigned an old car without heating or air conditioning. But besides that one trying summer, he generally enjoyed his job.

Since working his way up to achieve the title of detective, he'd begun enjoying his job even more. There was something satisfying about hunting down the animals who committed the most heinous of crimes and making sure they got the justice they deserved.

And he was good at it.

At only 29, Oliver had already risen through the ranks of the Star City PD to become one of the leading homicide detectives in the city. He'd been recognized by the mayor at City Hall for his efficiency at what he did, he'd been awarded the highest honor the department offered for his marksmanship for four years running, and he had even received a call from the governor last year congratulating him on being the leading detective in the state in solved homicides.

How did he do it? He'd been asked that question over and over again by rookies throughout the years. His answer was always the same.

Don't feel.

A good detective wouldn't let the hideous nature of a crime impact how he or she interprets the facts. A good detective wouldn't allow an emotional connection to the victim, or their crying mother, or their distraught children, cloud his or her head while they're supposed to be analyzing everything for clues. A good detective didn't get sidetracked by the human aspect of a crime.

A job was a job.

And Oliver Queen had gotten pretty damn good and his job. So good, in fact, that he sometimes wondered if he even remembered how to have an emotional connection with someone. With his mother and sister living across the country, he didn't really have anyone to test his empathy out with.

Good thing empathy wasn't needed at his work.

He trudged through the sloppy January snow and to the front doors of the precinct, only to be met almost instantly by his partner, John Diggle.

Diggle was a kindred spirit of sorts. The man was endlessly dedicated and professional on the job, and he was good at what he did. Oliver considered him a friend. Or as close to a friend as he could get considering Oliver was determined not to get too close to anyone at work. Ever since the rookie, Roy Harper, had been killed in the line of duty a few years back, Oliver had taken it upon himself to maintain as much emotional distance from coworkers as possible.

A job was a job.

He wouldn't let attachment to anyone he worked with be his undoing.

"Hey, is that for me?" Diggle said excitedly, reaching for one of the two coffees Oliver was carrying. Oliver swiftly swiveled the styrofoam cups out of Diggle's reach and threw him a glare.

"No," he responded curtly, ignoring Diggle's amused huff as the older and bulkier man fell into step beside him.

"Let me guess. Felicity?"

Oliver threw John another look. "I owed her after she helped us with that Reinburg case on Tuesday."

Diggle scoffed and threw up his hands. "Whatever you say man. Chief wants us all in the briefing room for an announcement anyway. She should be there."

Oliver took a sip of his black coffee and ignored the way Diggle was grinning at him knowingly while they made their way towards the elevator. It was annoying. Just because he was being nice and thanking the cute computer forensic analyst for her help on a case – again – Diggle didn't need to make it into a thing. Yes, Oliver liked being around her. But who didn't? Felicity Smoak was like pure sunshine. Everyone liked being around her. So she'd told Oliver to repay her help with a coffee? So what? It didn't mean anything.

It didn't mean he was attached to her. Which was exactly what Diggle had accused him of when Oliver had suggested they ask for her help on the Reinburg case in the first place.

Which was ridiculous because Oliver didn't get attached.

Diggle didn't know anything.

"So have you given any more thought to that offer?" Diggle asked conversationally, pressing the elevator button for the second floor. The doors closed and the elevator started to move.

"What offer?" Oliver deadpanned, taking another sip of his coffee.

"The one from the FBI, Oliver."

Oliver looked at his partner and shrugged. Yesterday, a woman from the FBI had shown up and offered him a job. She'd said the FBI was impressed with his record and they could use his skills in federal cases. It was a great offer, but he'd have to move to Virginia. For some reason, that idea didn't sit right with him. "I don't know Digg. I don't think it's my thing."

"Not your…," Diggle sputtered. "Oliver, that job would pay you three times as much as this one! Plus you'd get to travel all over the country and really make something of your career. Isn't that what you've always said you wanted?"

The elevator door dinged open into the large briefing room. Over half of the department was already gathered there, and Oliver instantly noticed the curly golden hair of Felicity Smoak as she laughed at something that douche from the horseback unit, Ray Palmer, said. Oliver couldn't stand that guy.

"Oliver?" Diggle pressed. "So what's the deal? Why aren't you jumping for joy about this offer?"

Oliver stepped off the elevator. "Maybe I don't want to leave you, Digg," he replied over his shoulder with a smirk.

"Yeah, I don't think it's me!" Diggle called after him, shaking his head.

Oliver lifted his hand to flip his middle finger against the cup in Diggle's direction. Digg laughed and Oliver continued to work his way across the room.

"Felicity," he greeted when he got close enough to hear her telling Ray all about some new software she'd invented that could help differentiate the time of day a footprint was left based on a mud sample. She turned at the sound of his voice and offered him a bright smile.

"Oliver!" She turned back to Ray. "I'll catch up with you later, Ray."

Oliver hoped she didn't. She could do a lot better than that tool. He extended the coffee in his left hand to her. "Two creams and three sugars. Just as requested."

Felicity clapped her hands together excitedly and took the cup from his hands. "Thank you! You're a lifesaver!"

"No, that would be you. I never would have solved that case on Tuesday so quickly without your help. A coffee was the least I could do."

Felicity lifted the cup up to smell the steam rising from it, a happy smile on her face. "You know I was mostly kidding about you owing me coffee, right?"

Oliver smirked. "Well, I figured if I keep you happy, maybe you'll help me again."

Felicity took a sip of the coffee. "Mmmm," she hummed while nodding her head. "You have the right idea."

"Alright everyone, I need you all to take a seat!" the police chief, Lyla Michaels, called out loudly above the noise of the crowd. For someone who was usually pretty positive and sometimes even began meetings with a joke, Oliver noticed that Chief Michaels looked especially somber today. The detail nagged at the back of his mind where his ability to worry should have been located.

Oliver pulled out the chair at the table beside him and motioned for Felicity to sit. She smiled in gratitude and took a seat. He sat down next to her because he didn't want to look around for another spot. Not because he wanted to be near her.

The fact that he liked being near her was just a happy coincidence.

"I have some unsettling news to share with everyone," Chief Michaels began as the room quieted. Chairs creaked as men and women settled, preparing to listen.

Oliver folded his hands and rested his forearms on the table, leaning forward in anticipation of whatever news this was. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Felicity sit her coffee down gingerly and lean forward.

"We have a new case that is going to need to take priority today. Whatever you were working on, it needs to be paused. We're going to need all hands on deck."

Oliver looked around in interest. It had been a long time since a directive like that had come down from the top. He hoped the case was assigned to him.

Chief Michaels paused and looked around the room, seeming to be building her courage to deliver some unhappy news. She took a breath, and then spoke. "15 minutes ago, I received a call from the Ivy Town police chief – just across the county line. His officers found a body in an abandoned house surrounded by what looked like bird feathers." Chief Michaels clicked on the projector in front of her to show a map of an Ivy Town residential neighborhood. She used a red laser pointer to circle the house where the body had been found.

"Bird feathers?" Oliver heard Diggle question from across the room.

Chief Michaels nodded. "No doubt it was intentional," she affirmed. "I've asked that the crime scene be undisturbed until our team can get there."

"Uh Chief?" Ray spoke up, raising his hand tentatively. "Shouldn't this be in Ivy Town's jurisdiction? Why are we taking this case on? And why are we dropping everything for it?"

Oliver raised an eyebrow towards his chief, wondering the same thing. Maybe Raymond wasn't totally useless.

Chief Michaels took a haggard breath then squared her shoulders. "Because," she began in a strong voice, "the deceased is ADA Laurel Lance."

The room erupted in shocked shouts and cries of confusion. Oliver heard Felicity gasp next to him. He turned to look at her and saw her mouth hanging open and her hands beginning to shake. He himself was surprised. He'd just seen Laurel on Wednesday morning when she stopped by to have him sign off on a deposition testimony he was set to give in a couple weeks. It seemed strange that she could exist then but not today.

"I know this is a shock," Chief Michaels said. "I know many of you have worked with Ms. Lance in the past and will, no doubt, want answers. I do too. The best thing we can do for her and her family is find out who did this as quickly as possible. Remember that her father, Quentin, hasn't been retired from our ranks for long. Let's close this as fast as we can for him."

"I'll volunteer for the case," Digg spoke up again.

Chief Michaels nodded and gave a grim smile. "Thank you John. As a matter of fact, I was hoping you and Oliver would volunteer. We need our best on this one. Queen?" She turned to him, waiting for his response.

Oliver spoke up for the first time since the meeting started. "We'll solve it, Chief."

Chief Michaels nodded. "Good. Assemble your team then. I want you headed for Ivy Town in ten minutes."

The room thrummed with noisy chatter as Chief Michaels descended from the podium with the thin manila folder she'd started compiling files and evidence into before the meeting began. Oliver turned to Felicity and frowned when he saw her staring straight ahead. She was trying to take a sip of her coffee, but her hands were shaking so much that drips of coffee were spilling over the lid.

"Felicity, hey," he grabbed the coffee from her hands and set it on the table. "Are you ok?"

She looked at him, her eyes wide. "Yeah I'm…. I don't know. I knew Laurel. I … worked with her on a case a couple of months ago." Her eyes left his and looked down and to the side like she was remembering something. "She was nice to me. She offered to go out to dinner with me for my birthday since I didn't have many friends in the city yet. Who… Oliver, who would do this?"

She looked back at him and he felt his stomach sink when he saw her eyes. She was upset. He didn't like it.

"I don't know yet," he answered honestly.

She looked away from him, her eyes unfocused. "I've never lost a friend on the job before."

Oliver was silent. He didn't have anything to say. He knew what it was like to be blindsided by the loss of a friend. Thank God he hadn't let himself get into that position again since Roy.

Felicity looked back at him, her mouth dropping open. "I'm so sorry! I'm sitting here feeling sorry for myself and you…you must be devastated. God I'm an idiot!"

Oliver just looked at her and blinked. "…What?"

"Laurel," Felicity whispered, her voice wobbling slightly. "You used to date her, right? I'm so sorry Oliver. If you need anything -"

"We went on a few dates years ago. It wasn't serious. How did you even know that?" Something about her thinking that he was dating Laurel Lance bothered him.

Her face turned an endearing shade of pink. "She uh… she told me. When we were working together. I'm sorry, should I not have brought it up?"

Oliver shook his head, wondering why he cared if Felicity knew about his past dates with Laurel. It's not like they'd led anywhere. He and Laurel had never been compatible. She wanted a commitment, and when he wouldn't give it, she'd (accurately) called him a cold-hearted bastard. He'd barely seen her since then except for work, and he hadn't really thought twice about it. "It's fine. We just…weren't close or anything if that's what you thought."

Felicity nodded and looked like she was about to say something before Chief Michaels interrupted. "Queen, you're going to need a tech analyst with you on this one. Chief Poole said there were some flash drives left behind at the scene. I want them analyzed initially there so we can get a start on any leads they provide, then sent back here for deeper examination."

"Ok, Chief," Oliver nodded. He looked next to him. Felicity had just told him the other day about how she sometimes got bored sitting behind her desk all day. She'd said she wanted a chance to prove herself in the field and to earn more opportunities to work at actual crime scenes gathering her data instead of being the lab tech they brought everything back to. "Felicity, you want to come to Ivy Town?"

"Me?" Felicity questioned, looking from Oliver to Chief Michaels. "I don't get to go into the field often. I'd love to help, I just … Are you sure - "

"She's the best," Oliver asserted, looking back at Chief Michaels. "We need her there."

Chief Michaels nodded then turned to Felicity. "You're in, Smoak. Remember to vest up. We're not taking any chances with this one."

"Thank you, Ma'am. You won't regret this," Felicity beamed. Chief Michaels dropped the folder in front of Oliver and then walked off to talk to someone else who was calling for her attention. Oliver watched Felicity turn to him with a big smile on her face.

He liked it much more than that sad look she had a few minutes ago.

"Thank you, Oliver. That was really nice of you to say that to Chief Michaels."

"It's the truth," he shrugged, smiling a little when he saw her face light up even more.

"Ok, well I'm going to go grab my vest. I'll meet you and Diggle in the lobby?"

"I'll grab Digg and meet you there," he confirmed. She smiled again and walked off towards the elevator – her coffee forgotten. He figured he'd do another kind deed and take it to her for the 45 minute car trip.

"So, I just heard Felicity's coming with us?" Diggle said, coming up next to Oliver and clapping him on the back. Oliver internally groaned at the note of amusement in the man's voice.

"Don't start, Digg. She's the best at what she does, and Chief wants some flash drives analyzed on the scene." Oliver stood up and grabbed the folder and Felicity's forgotten coffee. He looked at Diggle and saw the man smirking at him. "What?"

Diggle threw his hands up with a smile. "Nothing. I just definitely don't think it's me you don't want to leave."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 **10:45 AM; Hour 1**

When Oliver and Diggle reached the foyer of the Star City Police Department, ready to take off for Ivy Town to begin their investigation, they saw Felicity Smoak standing off to the side with her arms wrapped around her back awkwardly. As they approached, Oliver could tell she was working on fastening one of the last straps on her Kevlar vest. The Velcro on the straps was extremely adhesive, and it looked like on her first attempt the strap had fastened itself crooked. Because of the awkward angle, she was having trouble pulling the strap off herself to fix it.

Diggle snorted out a laugh at the sight. Oliver bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

Without saying anything, he walked up behind her and placed a hand on her arm to still it. Her head whipped around, and she relaxed when she saw it was him. "Thank God it's you. Sara said something to me right when I was fastening this last belt and I totally messed it up. Would you –"

She was interrupted by the loud ripping sound of the Velcro coming apart. He put one hand on her shoulder to steady her in place, and then lined the Velcro up. He fastened the strips together as tightly as they could go – the last thing they needed in an emergency would be her vest coming loose – and then patted them down to make sure the Velcro was secure.

She turned towards him and smiled. "Thanks. Hey, is that my coffee?"

Oliver grabbed the coffee cup from the nearby bench he'd set it on and handed it to her. "I figured you might want it for the drive."

"That's like three times you've saved my life today," she teased, lightly shoving his shoulder. "Thanks!"

Diggle cleared his throat. "You guys ready?"

Oliver and Felicity nodded. Felicity patted Oliver's forearm as she walked past him, then the two followed Diggle out to the department SUV they were going to be taking out to Ivy Town. While Felicity hopped into the front seat next to Diggle, Oliver tried to ignore the way the skin on his forearm burned where she'd touched him.

* * *

About 40 minutes later, Diggle pulled the SUV into a residential subdivision in Ivy Town. Oliver watched through the window as they passed house after house – all with identical pristine paint jobs, perfectly shoveled driveways, and picturesque bushes and trees capped with snow. A few of the houses even had strangely perfectly proportioned snowmen adorning the front yard.

"Look at that cute snowman with a scarf!" Felicity chattered happily, also watching the passing scenery.

"Waste of a perfectly good scarf if you ask me," Diggle smirked, keeping his eyes on the road in front of him. "Those fools who live there should be wearing that scarf themselves."

Felicity laughed and lightly punched his shoulder. "Don't be such a spoilsport, Digg."

"Hey! You're sitting in the back on the way home if you keep this up. Oliver, you never told me she was so violent," he teased.

"I only get violent when people insult perfectly good snowmen," she joked, looking back out the window. "Oliver, back me up! Tell Digg a snowman isn't complete without a scarf."

"I've actually never built a snowman, so I wouldn't know," Oliver said absently while he scanned the scenery through the windshield, waiting for the crime scene to come into view. Felicity and Diggle both turned to look at him. Felicity's mouth hung open in shock, and Diggle just shook his head in disapproval. Oliver looked back and forth between them, confused. "What?"

"You've never built a snowman?" Felicity said, aghast. "Not even as a kid?"

"That's messed up, man," Diggle confirmed.

Oliver frowned. "I don't see why that's a big deal."

"If we weren't on a case right now, I would literally make Digg stop this car right now and force you to build a snowman," Felicity responded. Her voice was serious, but her eyes were teasing.

Oliver snorted and managed to contain his smile with a smirk. "Thank God for the case then."

Felicity bit her lip, but it didn't hide her smile as well as she probably wanted it to. "You're terrible," she teased, twisting back in her seat to face the front while shaking her head.

"I know," he grinned. She looked at him over her shoulder and rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

"Ok kids, I think we found it," Diggle said. The light atmosphere in the car evaporated instantly when they all looked out to see a house roped off by caution tape coming into view at the end of the cul-de-sac.

Diggle pulled the car to a stop in front of the house, and all three passengers got out. Oliver pulled his leather jacket tighter around his Kevlar vest in response to a cold gust of wind and saw Felicity doing the same. He stalked towards the entrance to the house, holding up the caution tape for Felicity to walk under it.

The house was abandoned, so there was no heat and the temperature wasn't that much warmer than outside, but Oliver was glad to be out of the biting wind.

"SCPD?" a man Oliver recognized, Captain Bradley of the Ivy Town PD, said as he approached them. "Ah, Queen. I'm glad they sent you. We need the best on this."

Oliver nodded, reaching out to shake the man's hand. "Bradley, you remember my partner, John Diggle."

"Of course," the older mustached man affirmed, reaching to shake Digg's hand.

"And this is Felicity Smoak. She's our computer analyst. Chief Poole said there were some flash drives left behind?"

Bradley shook Felicity's hand and then turned back to Oliver. "Oh yeah, a whole slew of them. Come on, the scene's upstairs."

Oliver, Felicity, and Diggle followed Captain Bradley up the carpeted staircase to an empty bedroom where the door was covered with even more caution tape. Bradley opened the door, and Oliver stepped inside to see a few CSIs already taking photos and dusting for fingerprints. At the center of the room was ADA Lance, posed as if she were sleeping, surrounded by small bird feathers just like Chief Michaels had said.

Oliver heard Felicity's sharp inhale next to him. "What was the cause of death?" she questioned, stepping around him and putting on gloves she pulled from the CSI box on the floor.

Captain Bradley followed her, and Oliver followed him. "Unclear. There are no obvious wounds, even defensive ones. No bruising, so probably not strangulation. Our best guess is poison, but we won't know until toxicology comes back in a few hours. If it's not that, it will be even longer until the coroner can deduce cause of death for us."

"Can you make sure those results are forwarded to us as soon as they come through?" Oliver asked, crouching down next to Felicity, who was holding up one of the feathers close to her glasses, examining it.

"Of course," Bradley nodded. Diggle called for Bradley to look at something he'd found across the room, so the man left Oliver and Felicity alone.

"That's a pretty small feather," Oliver mused, looking from Felicity to the other feathers scattered over the floor. He picked one up and held it up to the light. "Maybe the killer was making a point about Laurel with the feathers. Something about her being weak? Or small? Or a joke of some sort about her 'flying away'?"

Felicity pursed her lips. "I don't know. This seems more like a message to whoever found her, not a message about her." Oliver looked at her and raised an eyebrow. Her cheeks turned pink and she smiled bashfully. "Sorry, investigating is your job."

Oliver smirked. "No, that's a good point. Did you ever think of switching paths to the dark detective side?"

Felicity set the feather down and began scanning her eyes around the room. "Not really. I like computers. They're easy. There's always an answer as long as you know how to find it. Being a detective and sometimes dealing with unsolved mysteries would drive me crazy."

Oliver nodded, understanding. The few unsolved cases he had attached to his name over the years still haunted him from time to time.

Something caught his eye beneath a few of the nearby feathers. He gently picked up two of the feathers and moved them to reveal a sliver flash drive. "Hey, I found one of the flash drives." He reached his hand out gingerly to attempt to pick up the flash drive without disturbing much else of the crime scene.

"Don't!" Felicity's panicked cry was accompanied by her grabbing his arm and pulling it towards her just before he touched the flash drive.

"What – "

"Don't touch it," Felicity repeated, standing up and rushing over to the CSI kit she'd taken her gloves from. She returned moments later with a pair of tongs. She crouched down next to him – close enough for him to smell the strawberry scent of her shampoo – and picked up the flash drive with the tongs.

Her eyes were riveted on the flash drive as she spoke. "See that small silver line?" She pointed to something on the edge of the part of the flash drive that would be inserted in the USB port, but Oliver couldn't tell what exactly she was pointing at.

"Uh…no."

A frustrated line appeared on her forehead as she brought the flash drive a little closer to their faces. "There," she repeated, pointing again to the tip of the drive. This time Oliver noticed a slight change in the tone of the silver metal. A subtle line, just like she'd said.

"Ok…what is it?"

Felicity swallowed nervously, and Oliver looked over at her to watch her as she explained. "When I was at MIT, my bio tech class did an experiment with a chemical called Oronium. It's completely colorless and odorless, and it's toxic if it touches the skin or is ingested. My teacher used to tell us to always watch out for it because the fact that it can dry on a metal surface without leaving a trace and still retain its toxic quality made it a lethal form of poison that could easily be disguised in our tech." She shifted the tongs again to flip the drive over – pointing out the discolored silver line that continued all the way around. "The chemical reacts when it comes into contact with certain natural oils. Like the oils found on a bird's feather – for example."

Oliver looked from Felicity to the flash drive. Fuck. How many people had touched these drives? Probably they'd all been wearing gloves, but what else had they touched? Phones? Car door handles? Pens? Jesus. The Ivy Town PD could have been spreading this chemical all morning.

"Shit," he swore out loud. "This isn't just a crime scene. The killer was setting a trap."

Felicity bit her lip and nodded, her eyes wide.

"Bradley!" Oliver barked, standing up. "We need a hazmat team here ASAP."

Oliver spent the next couple minutes catching Captain Bradley up on Felicity's discovery while one of the CSI's took Felicity downstairs to look through the collection of flash drives for any that weren't contaminated. Captain Bradley arranged for a Hazmat team to arrive to start decontaminating the scene, and he also arranged for a new pair of shoes to be brought in for everyone on sight in case they'd unknowingly stepped on any of the chemical residue.

"So this case just took a turn," Diggle deadpanned as he stepped up next to Oliver and rubbed his newly gloved hand over his face. "So I guess Laurel wasn't the only intended target."

"I guess not," Oliver confirmed. "You know what bothers me?" Diggle quirked an eyebrow. "Why the feathers? Did the killer want us to find the poison?"

"I doubt it," Diggle responded gravely. "Even with the feathers exposing some of the chemical residue, none of us noticed it. If it weren't for Felicity being here, we'd have probably all been fully exposed by now."

Oliver nodded. Felicity's genius brain had saved all their asses.

"It's more likely the killer didn't know that the reaction would expose the chemical," Diggle continued, "and that the feathers are meant to make a different statement."

"But what?" Oliver wondered. "It's not often a killer is trying to make a statement and kill more people at the same time. That's pretty complex."

"Just proves this was well thought out," Diggle added grimly. "The bastard has probably been planning this for months."

Oliver nodded. This crime was turning out to be even more complicated and well-planned than he'd anticipated. He didn't like feeling one step behind the killer, and he was starting to get that impression with this. Being one step behind a killer was never good. It was what led to more deaths.

"We're going to need to run a trace on anyone and everyone who's purchased this chemical recently," Oliver surmised, taking off his gloves and tossing them in the makeshift Hazmat bag they'd created. He stepped onto the hallway and grabbed a new, clean pair of gloves. "I want to see if Felicity's found any flash drives we can use, and if not, I think we should head back. We can continue the investigation from the station, and we still need to canvass Laurel's neighborhood for witnesses and figure out when she went missing."

Diggle followed him down the stairs. "I'll call Lyla and ask her to have a team get started on going door to door. Bradley gave me Laurel's cell phone in the boxes of evidence we're taking back with us. We can see if Felicity can start a preliminary analysis of it on the way back."

"Good idea," Oliver confirmed. He reached the end of the stairs and turned to the right, following the sound of Felicity's voice as she chattered away about some flaw in the design of a flash drive or something.

When he entered the dining room, he saw Felicity and a young Ivy Town officer whose uniform read "Malone" sifting carefully through a slew of flash drives that had been laid out on a tarp. Malone carefully rubbed a feather over the metal end of the drive, then handed it to Felicity. They both had on gloves and rubber smocks to cover their clothes. Oliver was glad. He wasn't used to having his coworkers dealing with hazardous materials, but this case had become time sensitive the moment they realized the killer wasn't finished. It was unsettling to know he'd invited her here, and now she was on the front line handling flash drives dipped in poison.

"Any luck?" He asked, coming to a stop just at the edge of the tarp.

"Not yet," Felicity answered, her eyes never leaving the drive she was inspecting. "Billy and I are down to just a handful left to look at, but so far they've all had the chemical coating."

"Ok well, be careful. Once you're finished, we're going to head back."

Felicity turned her head to look at him with a smile. A few strands of hair had escaped from her ponytail and were framing her face around her glasses, and her cheeks and nose were a little rosy from the cold. "I'm always careful, Oliver."

Her assurance didn't really make him feel better. He watched carefully as she handled the drives. Each time she set a new one down, he felt like a tiny weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

It was only because he felt responsible for her since he was the one who got her on the case. Nothing else.

Oliver caught Diggle watching him and looked over at his partner. Diggle just smirked and shook his head. Oliver rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

"Oh frak!" Felicity squeaked. Oliver felt a lead weight drop on his chest in an instant, and his head snapped in her direction. She looked ok. She didn't look hurt or burned or whatever the hell she would look like if she'd touched the poison. She turned to look at him, her eyes wide. In her hand were the tongs, and in them was a brown flash drive.

"What is it?" Diggle asked, stepping forward to look.

"This one," Felicity answered, looking between Diggle and Oliver. "This one's clean. I can recover the data on it."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Enjoy! :) Look for the next update on Tuesday.

 **Chapter 3**

 **1:21 PM; Hour 3**

Oliver looked from Felicity's excited face to the brown flash drive she was holding. "You think there might be something on it that can help us?"

Felicity bit her lip. "Maybe. It's the only one so far that not corrupted, so it's possible that whatever is on here was left because the killer wants us to find it. But it's worth looking at, don't you think?"

"I'd say so," Diggle spoke up.

Felicity placed the tongs down and stepped off the tarp. "I'm going to run out to the car to get my laptop. It has a few programs on it that my tablet doesn't, and I don't want to miss anything." She took her gloves and smock off and tossed them into another hazmat bag the team had set up beside the flash drives. "I'll be right back." She grabbed her coat from the back of a nearby chair and hurried past them and out the front door.

When the door shut behind her with a click, the officer who had been helping her, Billy Malone, let out a low whistle. "She's something else, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is," Oliver conceded, stepping closer to take a look (still from a distance) at the pile of flash drives covered in the invisible toxin.

"Smart, beautiful, and an ass that puts most women to shame," the cop continued with a dreamy look on his face. Oliver's eyes narrowed. Who the hell did this asshole think he was? No one talked about his team like that. "Hey, if I ask her out, do you think I'd have a shot?"

Diggle barked out a laugh from across the room.

"I doubt it," Oliver ground out, mentally running through a list of people he could call to complain about this idiot's unprofessional behavior. They were at a crime scene for God's sake, and this dick was thinking about getting into Felicity's pants? He wanted to throttle him for even looking at her ass.

"Why not? Is she seeing someone? Is she a lesbian?"

"Because she's not into assholes, Billy," Oliver snapped, looking up from the flash drives to glare at the smaller man. Suddenly Malone's nose was looking a little crooked. Maybe if Oliver broke it, it would actually be doing the guy a favor. The idea sounded pretty good to him.

Billy frowned. "Is there a problem? Are you sleeping with her or something? Sorry man, I didn't know."

"Jesus," Oliver groaned, wiping a hand over his face in aggravation.

"Hey Billy, why don't you head upstairs and see if Bradley needs your help or something. We'll take it from here," Diggle suggested with a smirk. Malone nodded and stalked off.

Oliver gave Diggle a look and grumbled, "Can you believe that little shit? He's lucky I didn't kick his ass."

"Mm-hmm," Diggle hummed with a smirk.

"Don't start," Oliver warned, walking over to the table by the window where the box of evidence was. "He shouldn't have been thinking about her like that when he's on the job. Letting personal feelings get in the way of the investigation isn't something we can afford on this case."

Some movement in the yard caught his eye. Felicity was just shutting the door of the SUV, her laptop bag over her shoulder, when another dark SUV with tinted windows pulled up behind it. What the fuck? The dark SUV slowed to a stop, and he watched as Felicity turned to look at it.

His heart started to pound. This didn't feel right.

Felicity started to trudge towards the car, reaching under her coat to take her badge off of where it was clasped to the belt loop of her jeans.

No.

She motioned for the driver to roll down the passenger side window, and the tinted glass slowly started to descend.

Something was off. He could feel it.

Something icy started to circulate through his veins and his heart rate sped up. On instinct, Oliver scrambled towards the front door, stumbling over another case of evidence on the floor.

"Oliver, what the hell?" Diggle yelled.

Oliver ignored him, desperate to get to the door. To get outside.

He reached the door handle and flung it open just in time to see the dark SUV pulling away. And Felicity slogging through the yard with her computer bag still slung over her shoulder. Oliver let out a breath of relief. False alarm. She smiled at him when she saw him in the doorway.

"Are you ok? You look weird," she chirped as she approached him.

"Uh, yeah." Oliver cleared his throat. "Who was in the SUV?"

Felicity shrugged and walked past him into the house. "Some guy who needed directions to Wal-Mart. I told him I had no idea where it was, but that this was a crime scene so he needed to beat it. I'm going to set my laptop up on the kitchen counter."

Oliver stepped back inside behind her and closed the door. She walked towards the kitchen, and Oliver ran a shaky hand over his face. He must have been losing it.

Diggle came up beside him and clapped him on the shoulder. "What was that you were saying about personal feelings when you're on a job?"

Oliver shrugged his partner's hand off his shoulder. "Fuck off," he grumped. Diggle just laughed and followed Oliver into the kitchen where Felicity was already turning on her laptop on the island countertop.

She looked up when they entered. "Hey, will one of you do me a favor and go grab that flash drive from the other room?" she asked, removing a notebook and a red pen from her laptop bag.

Diggle nodded and ducked out of the room.

Oliver walked around the counter to stand next to Felicity. He watched as she pulled up a black screen and started to type some gibberish into it – then all of a sudden a few programs popped up ready for her to log in to. "I'm not sure if we'll find anything, but I'm going to look at anything on the drive, any time and location stamps for the last time it was updated, and see if I can find a digital signature that might tell us where and when it was purchased," Felicity murmured. Her eyes never left the screen and her fingers never stopped their tapping across the keys.

Diggle re-appeared carrying the metal tongs that had the flash drive wedged between them.

"Thanks!" Felicity reached her bare hand out to grab the drive out of the tongs, ignoring the immediate protests from Oliver and Diggle. Digg swiveled the tongs out of her grasp and stared at her. She looked between Oliver and Diggle with raised eyebrows.

"You're sure it's not poisoned?" Diggle demanded.

Felicity looked amused. "One hundred percent positive," she affirmed. "And Billy said all the drives have already been dusted for prints." Oliver watched as she muttered something about them being "overprotective" and then grabbed the drive. She quickly inserted it into the USB port on the laptop and then started hitting the keys again.

Diggle circled the island to stand on the other side of Felicity, and both men watched her work.

About thirty seconds after the tap tap tap of the keys started, they stopped and she pumped her fist in the air. "Gotcha!" she cheered.

Oliver and Diggle exchanged looks over her head.

"What is it?" Oliver demanded.

"Well the killer erased everything from the drive, so there's technically nothing on it…," she started, hitting the keys again.

Oliver frowned. "I thought you said you got something?"

"Oh I did," she said cheerfully. "Whoever it was deleted everything, but they're clearly not very tech savvy because they didn't overwrite or encrypt their data or use a TRIM tool to erase the memory cells."

"Uh…what?" Diggle questioned.

"Little known fact, all flash drives can be recovered because the data stored in the memory cells leaves an imprint that doesn't get erased until it's overwritten." She continued to type, but looked over her shoulder at Oliver. "If it were me wanting to erase this data, I would have deleted my sensitive files then filled up the drive's memory with cute pictures of kittens or something," she joked. "Then again, I would never have saved sensitive information on a flash drive to begin with because, really, how dumb do you have to be?"

"So what was the killer trying to erase?" Oliver wondered aloud, leaning forward to get a closer look at the computer screen.

"That's the million dollar question, isn't it?" Felicity mused. A few keystrokes later, a couple new windows popped up. "Oh wow," she breathed.

Oliver and Diggle looked at the screen in interest. Pictures were popping up of different chemicals, metal pieces, and fuses.

"He was researching explosives," Oliver said gravely.

Diggle swore and took out his phone to call Chief Michaels.

"Felicity, is there any way to tell if the killer was looking at a specific store or ingredient?" Oliver wandered, watching her work.

"Already on it," she nodded. "Since it's a flash drive, it won't have any internet search data, but I think we can safely assume that if it was saved to the drive it's because they were planning to use it." She continued to type commands onto her keyboard, her eyes dancing across the screen with incredible focus. "There!"

She pointed to a picture on the screen. With a few more keystrokes, she'd enhanced and enlarged the image. Sure enough, on the edge of the image was a small, subtle watermark that read, "Bertinelli Hardware."

"I'll be damned," Oliver muttered.

"It looks like it's time to pay Frank a call," Felicity mused.

Frank Bertinelli was a known mafia boss in Star City. He and Oliver had gone toe to toe a few times over the years, but the old man was careful. No matter what Oliver knew he was involved in, there was never concrete evidence to pin anything to him. He was notorious around the precinct for being able to weasel his way out of any charge brought against him.

Oliver heard Diggle relaying what they'd just found to Lyla.

"So whoever killed Laurel also set a trap hoping to kill first responders or police officers and has been researching how to make a bomb," Felicity prattled as she scanned through the windows for anything else that could be helpful. "This isn't really sounding like a run-of-the-mill scorned lover crime or something."

Oliver shook his head. "No. This is calculated. Felicity, is there anything else on the drive besides the bomb-making directions? A date or time stamp maybe?"

Felicity pursed her lips and frowned. "I can only see the last time the data was opened and deleted, which was …. Wednesday."

"Two days ago," Oliver said, his mind reeling. "And based on the state of Laurel's body, I'd guess she's been dead for about 24 hours."

Felicity nodded. "Whatever plan the killer has, we're currently in the middle of it."

Oliver ran a hand over his face. "Ok, well we need to talk to Frank Bertinelli. We'll need his store purchase records and we'll need access to his security videos."

Diggle put a hand over his phone and looked up at them. "Lyla says we should head straight there. She'll work on getting the warrant and will send it to us when we're on the way."

Oliver nodded. "Felicity, we'll have you go through Laurel's phone in the car to see if we can find any other connection to Bertinelli or at the very least, some clue about where she might have been when she died."

"Got it," Felicity nodded, removing the flash drive and dropping it into an evidence bag.

"I'll start loading the evidence boxes in the car," Oliver continued, turning to Diggle. "Let Captain Bradley know what we found and then meet us outside. Make sure he knows we're waiting on that toxicology report and anything else his CSIs turn up."

"Yep," Diggle affirmed, slipping his phone into his pocket and making his way towards the stairs in search of the Ivy Town captain.

Oliver walked around Felicity, who was closing down her laptop and packing it back into her bag, and into the dining room to pick up one of the two evidence boxes. Inside them were various samples of feathers, crime scene pictures that the Ivy Town officers had rushed to print off, and preliminary reports about when the scene had been discovered and by whom. Oliver heaved one of them up into his arms, then walked towards the front door.

He got there at the same time as Felicity, and she held it open for him. "Do you think Frank Bertinelli did this?" she questioned as they walked through the snow towards the car.

Oliver frowned slightly. "I doubt it. Bertinelli is a lot of things, but complex enough to plan a crime like this? I doubt he has the patience."

"Yeah," Felicity breathed in a soft voice. "I don't see it either. Hopefully he can help get us a lead though. I just really want to find who did this before the banquet tomorrow night. I doubt Captain Lance will come now anyway, but just in case, I'd like him to have some good news."

The annual PD banquet. Oliver had almost forgotten. The banquet was a celebration thrown by the State to honor all the law enforcement officers across the five surrounding districts. It was the one night a year where all non-essential personnel were expected to show up, shake hands with the higher ups, and just generally put on a great PR show for the press. They'd been getting email reminders about it for months warning them not to miss it.

Oliver doubted that even ADA Lance's death would be enough to derail it.

Felicity opened the back door of the SUV and Oliver set the evidence box on the seat.

"I'll sit in the back on the way home so I can go through some of this stuff," she offered, already leaning in and looking through some of the items curiously.

"I'll go get the other box," Oliver said. "I'll be right back." Felicity nodded in acknowledgement.

Oliver made his way back inside and grabbed the second box, running the case details through his mind again. He felt like he was missing something. Like what was the purpose of the feathers? And why had the flash drive with the killer's deleted plans on it been the only one not contaminated with poison? There were so many layers to this one. He wanted to get back to the precinct as quickly as possible so he could start laying them out. It was always easier for him to make connections when he could see them.

Oliver carried the box back out to the SUV and sat it inside. He could see Felicity through the window doing something around the back of the vehicle. He looked at his watch, willing Diggle to hurry up. He wanted to get to Frank's early enough to still have plenty of time to do some thinking once they got back to the station.

He heard the soft crunch beneath Felicity's boots as she rounded her way around the back of the SUV towards him. He looked up at her and saw she had a brilliant smile on her face and her hands were both behind her back.

"I made you something," she said. Oliver studied her for a moment. Her golden hair was a little disheveled from her ponytail after the car ride here and working over the flash drives. Her cheeks and nose were an adorable shade of pink from the cold wind, and her eyes were a striking blue behind her glasses.

He'd noticed when he first met her months ago that she was attractive. He'd have to be blind not to see that. But something about the way she was looking at him right now with that bright smile despite the freezing cold and the bleak circumstances was…striking.

"Are you going to guess what it is?" she prodded with a glint in her eyes.

"Something tells me I'd never guess right," he smirked.

She bit her lip playfully and brought her hands out from behind her. In her left palm was a tiny, pillar of snow.

"It's a snowman," she beamed.

"That's a snowman?" Oliver teased, pretending to squint his eyes as if he couldn't see what she was referring to.

Felicity laughed and swatted at his arm with her free hand.

Oliver looked at her with a smile and noticed movement over her shoulder.

"Of course it's a snowman!" she defended herself. "See the little bottom snowball? Ok, I'll admit the two top ones kind of blended together."

It was a dark SUV. With tinted windows.

"But even though he's missing a scarf, he's still very clearly a snowman," she continued.

Oliver's adrenaline picked up as the SUV circled around the cul-de-sac and inched its way back up the street. It looked like the same one as earlier.

"You said you'd never made one, and I know technically you still haven't made one, but at least now you can say you've had a snowman, right?"

The SUV stopped. The driver's side window – facing them – started to roll down.

"Oliver? Are you -"

"Get down!" Oliver demanded, roughly grabbing her shoulder and shoving her to her knees in the snow behind their SUV just as three loud pops echoed around them. Felicity squeaked in surprise and Oliver swore loudly when he felt a burning pain in his arm.

He quickly grabbed his gun from the holster under his arm as Felicity grabbed for a gun in her boot. He stepped around her and leaned around the corner of the SUV to fire two shots towards the other vehicle – where the driver was already rolling up their window and pressing the gas on the car. The tires squealed against the salt-covered pavement and the car shot off down the street.

"Diggle!" Oliver called, grabbing Felicity's arm and pulling her to a standing position. "Felicity, are you ok?" he demanded.

"I'm fine," she said, looking a little dazed.

"What happened?" Diggle yelled as he ran out of the house with his gun drawn, looking around for a threat.

"Oliver!" Felicity gasped, reaching towards him with panicked eyes.

"SUV. Black. Driver shot at us, then took off. If we leave now we might catch them!" Oliver shouted, ignoring her. He opened the front and side door of the SUV. "Let's go!"

"Oliver, you're shot!" Felicity cried. She grabbed his arm, touched it with her free hand, then held up her fingers for him to see. They were smeared with blood. Fuck.

"I don't…" Oliver looked down and saw a tear in his leather jacket along the side of his shoulder. He noticed then that his arm was throbbing painfully. "I'm ok. I think it was a through-and-through." He'd been shot a few times through the course of his career. He'd know if the bullet was still in his arm. It would sting a hell of a lot more. "Let's go, we can still catch them."

"No! You need that looked at!" Felicity commanded, stepping away from the car.

Oliver groaned angrily and looked at Diggle for backup. That asshole had just shot at the police! If he hadn't seen them, Felicity might have … he was going to hunt those bastards down even if he had to break every fucking traffic law in existence.

Diggle looked between them, then down the street where the dark SUV had disappeared. "I'll call it in. Ivy Town PD will find them."

Oliver cursed and ran a hand through his hair. The anger he felt towards the asshole who'd killed Laurel and was set on killing more people was mixing into a toxic cocktail with his rage towards the asshole who'd just tried to kill him and Felicity. He could feel the need to hit something thrumming hotly through his veins.

"It's protocol, man," Diggle assured him, pulling his phone out and walking around to the other side of the SUV.

Oliver set his jaw and looked at Felicity. She was staring at him with wide eyes. He couldn't name the emotion in them, but he could tell automatically that he couldn't handle it. He looked away and climbed in the car.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 **3:31 PM; Hour 5**

Oliver rotated his sore arm slightly while he waited for the Emergency Room tech to hand him the paperwork to sign. This whole thing was ridiculous. Diggle and Felicity had insisted that he go to the hospital over a tiny gunshot wound in his shoulder. He'd been right: it was a through-and-through. All the doctor had done was clean the wound and stitch it up. Not a big deal.

Yet here he was, almost an hour and a half later, and he was still waiting for the release paperwork.

It was as if these people didn't understand he was trying to solve a murder and prevent a bunch more. Every minute counted.

He sighed in irritation when the tech finally handed him a clipboard full of papers to sign. He saw the tech frown, but he really didn't care.

Five minutes later, he was finally free. The doctor had said he was lucky the bullet had passed through one of the few fleshy parts of his bicep – not doing any real damage to any muscles. His bandaged shoulder throbbed a little since he'd refused the pain meds the doctor offered. SCPD protocol said anyone on narcotics had to be placed on medical leave for the duration of the prescription. Oliver had opted for a few ibuprofen tablets instead, much to the doctor's dismay, and then asked again for the release paperwork.

He shrugged into his leather jacket that the tech had kindly wiped free of blood for him while she waited for him to sign all the paperwork, then walked out of the ER and into the waiting room.

He noticed Felicity off to the left side right away. She was biting one of her nails and her knee was bouncing slightly as she watched people coming in and out of the front doors. No sign of Diggle.

Oliver approached her and cleared his throat. Her head snapped towards him and he saw her suck in a breath. Her eyes looked anxious and a little bloodshot. The way she looked at him made his stomach sink. Had something happened? Why was she staring at him like she was about to cry? Why did the sight of her looking like that make his veins fill with ice?

"Oliver," she breathed in a choked voice, rising from her chair. She came towards him, her eyes scanning over his body. "Are you ok? What did the doctor say? They wouldn't tell us anything because we weren't family and I thought …" Her eyes looked up at his and Oliver stopped breathing for a second. That concern in her eyes was for him? That devastated look on her face was because she was worried about him?

She looked from his eyes to his shoulder, her lips trembling so slightly that he might have missed it if he didn't happen to be looking at them. "You saved my life for real." Her eyes connected with his again, and in them he saw the same intense look he saw just before they left Ivy Town and Diggle had raced him to the nearest hospital. It was a look full of vulnerability and regret.

He didn't like that look on her face. He wanted it gone.

"You saved my life, and you got hurt because of it," she whispered, tearing her eyes from his and staring at his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Oliver. I should have -"

"Hey, look at me." He cut her off by placing his hands firmly on her shoulders. She reluctantly looked back up at his face, and something tugged at his cold heart when he saw a slight shimmer in her eyes – like she was trying not to cry. "I'm fine. It was nothing."

"You were shot!" she protested weakly.

"I've had worse," he dismissed. He frowned when her face fell as if that statement made her unhappy. "Felicity." He slid his hands so that they were closer to the sides of her neck instead and he could force her to look at him. "I'm ok. And even if it was painful – which it's not," he assured her, only stretching the truth slightly, "I'd do it again."

Her lips fell open slightly. He was taken off guard when she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. He dropped his hands from her shoulders and his arms fell limply to his sides in surprise. He felt her hands rest on his back and pull him tightly against her body. She turned her head so it rested against his good shoulder. There were multiple layers of clothes between them, but Oliver felt a pleasant warmth spreading out from every place they touched. His brain on autopilot because he was too surprised to think of much of anything besides the tingle of her warm breath ghosting over his neck, he lifted his hands to lay them against her back.

His breathing slowed, but his heart rate sped up. They stood like that for a few seconds, wrapped close enough together to feel the rise and fall of the other's chest. It had been a long time since anyone had hugged him. Years even. It felt… good.

"Thank you," she whispered, pulling back from him. The sincerity in her eyes and the way her rosy lips turned up slightly transfixed him. His consciousness clouded over with the desire to touch her. He wondered if her eyes would flutter closed if he ran his thumb over the few scattered freckles across her nose and cheeks. He wondered if her lips would part if he touched his fingertips along her jaw. He wondered if her skin was as soft and warm as it looked. He wondered what else could turn her cheeks pink besides the cold wind.

"You guys ready to go?"

Oliver jerked away from Felicity and jumped back. He looked up to see Diggle with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

"I pulled the SUV up to the door in case they made you leave in a wheelchair," Diggle continued, his annoying smirk basically branded onto his face at this point.

Oliver stuffed his hands into his pockets and rolled his eyes. "I'm fine. Let's go." Careful to avoid looking at Felicity, he turned and stalked towards the automatic doors that led outside. He heard Diggle mumble something lightly and Felicity laugh a little in response. Her laugh sounded a little off though – like she'd just run a marathon and was out of breath. He ignored them and continued through the doors and into the cold January air outside.

God, what the hell was wrong with him? He'd let Felicity hug him and then…. The things he was thinking about? He didn't wonder things like that about women he worked with. He didn't think about their eyes, their lips, or their skin. He didn't get close to them and he definitely didn't hug them. Hell, he didn't even think things like that about the women he casually dated or went home with for a quick fuck. He must have been losing his mind.

He got to the car and yanked the back door open in frustration before sliding into the seat. He needed to get ahold of himself. Maybe Diggle was right. There was something about Felicity that had him off balance. Diggle had started saying it months ago when Felicity had first helped them on a case, but Oliver had blown him off. But now…maybe there was something to it. When he was around her, it was like all his plans and procedures – all his intentions to stay objective and professional – were just gone. So gone that he didn't even notice they were missing.

The front two doors opened and Diggle and Felicity climbed in. "Wow Oliver, you were really in a rush to get out of there," Diggle deadpanned, connecting his mischievous eyes with Oliver's in the rearview mirror just to taunt him some more.

Oliver glared at him and then refocused his eyes out the front windshield. "That's because we're supposed to be working. I was in there for a couple hours. Catch me up on what I missed."

Oliver noticed that Felicity was staring out the window away from him and her cheeks were a little pink. Was it from the cold again?

"No sign of that SUV that shot at you," Diggle began. "But Ivy Town PD is searching. That neighborhood we were in was only minutes from the interstate, so it's likely they're long gone."

Oliver nodded. He figured that would be the case as soon as Diggle and Felicity had refused to chase the shooter in favor of taking him to the hospital. Just another example of personal feelings getting in the way of the job.

"Lyla got us the warrant for Bertinelli's records," Diggle continued. "She wants us to go there first. She sent a team out to canvass Laurel's neighborhood for information on when she might have disappeared. Nothing yet that I know of. And Felicity," he turned to look at the woman next to him, "figured out Laurel's passcode in about 15 seconds and was going through her phone in the waiting room."

"It was the year she was born. She really should have made it something a little harder to figure out," Felicity murmured.

"And?" Oliver questioned.

Felicity turned to look at him briefly. "Other than a slight addiction to online shopping for belt buckles, I didn't see anything out of the ordinary."

"Nothing suspicious on her calendar? No text messages or emails that raised red flags?" Oliver probed as Diggle started the SUV and began driving.

"Nothing," Felicity sighed. "Her last message was to her dad on Wednesday night. She told him not to wear his green tie to the banquet because she hates green."

"Huh," Oliver mused, his eyebrows furrowing in thought.

"I know right? Green is one of the best colors on a man." She paused and turned to look at him quickly. "Not that I'd think of Detective Lance that way! I mean sure he's good looking in an objective, older man way and he can make that whole retired cop thing work for him." She looked at Diggle, and Oliver could practically see her cringing inside. "I'd never think that, obviously, he's old enough to be my father. I just meant someone might think that. Anyone really. Anyone but me. I'm going to stop talking now."

"Ok," Diggle chirped happily, smiling widely.

"I was actually referring to the timing of her last text," Oliver stated with amusement. He'd heard her babble like that on occasion, always making her statements more awkward or innuendo laden by accident the more she talked. He felt an odd thrill every time it happened and he watched her get that flustered look on her face. "If she sent it to her dad Wednesday night, then we can narrow down the time of death to probably sometimes between Wednesday night and Thursday afternoon."

"I thought the same thing," Felicity confirmed. Her phone vibrated and she quickly pulled it out and entered her passcode. Oliver watched her scan whatever it was with a frown. "Ivy Town PD finished their initial toxicology report." Oliver raised his eyebrows and she passed him her phone. "Cause of death was a neurotoxin called batrachotoxin. It's found primarily in poison dart frogs and a bird called the hooded pitohui."

Oliver hummed as he scanned through the report. "A poisonous bird? Could have a connection to the bird feathers."

"Could be. The toxin causes paralysis and eventual cardiac arrest."

"Any idea how the toxin got into Laurel's system?" Diggle asked while keeping his eyes on the road ahead of him.

"Nothing definitive," Felicity answered. She motioned for Oliver to scroll down more. "There were elevated levels of alcohol in her bloodstream though and a specific synthetic dye commonly used in food coloring."

"Or mixed drinks," Oliver added.

"Or mixed drinks," Felicity confirmed.

"So let's say Laurel went out Wednesday night and the killer slipped the poison into her drink. Would it work fast enough to fit with the timeline of her death?"

Felicity nodded. "Depending on the amount of the toxin she ingested, the paralysis could have started to take effect within minutes."

Oliver locked the phone and handed it back to her. "I want you to find every bar or club nearby that would have been open on Wednesday night and crowded enough that a potential killer could blend in without being remembered."

"On it."

For the rest of the trip, Oliver, Felicity, and Diggle talked about their two leads: Bertinelli Hardware and the fact that Laurel was most likely out drinking the night she died. First on the agenda was visiting Frank Bertinelli's shop to try to get some information on whether anyone had been in recently to buy common ingredients for homemade explosives. After that, they could worry about trying to pinpoint where Laurel was when she was drugged.

When they finally parked in front of the hardware store, Oliver was ready to get some answers. Felicity opened her door and swung her legs around to hop out of her seat. Oliver stopped her by putting a hand on her shoulder. "Felicity," he called.

She stilled and twisted around to look at him expectantly.

Oliver swallowed. He couldn't afford distractions on this. And if his own erratic behavior today was any indication, taking Felicity to meet Frank Bertinelli, head of Star City's Italian Mafia family, would turn out to be very distracting. "Maybe you should stay in the car."

He hadn't expected the way his stomach would fill with acid when her face fell.

"Oh," she supplied quickly, nodding. "Of course. I'm not really needed in there and I'd probably just get in the way or be a distraction." Her voice sounded off.

"Exactly," Oliver nodded, relieved that she understood. The case had to come first, and for whatever reason, he had a hard time keeping that in mind when she was around. A job was still a job. He needed a reminder of that.

He frowned when he saw her eyes dim and her jaw tighten. She turned away from him and started fiddling with her phone. He glanced at Diggle who just shook his head at Oliver and got out of the SUV. Oliver followed his lead, throwing one last perplexed look at Felicity before shutting his door.

"You're a real ass, you know that?" Diggle said as he fell into step next to Oliver.

Oliver narrowed his eyes. "You're the one who keeps saying I'm not myself when she's around."

Diggle opened the store's door, and they walked inside. "I never said that was a bad thing. I also didn't mean that you should sideline her and basically tell her she wasn't important to this investigation."

"I never said -"

"Can I help you gentlemen?" the clerk spoke up as they approached the counter, interrupting Oliver's protest.

"Yeah, we need to talk to Frank," Diggle said bleakly as he sat his badge down on the counter and pushed it towards the clerk. The young man gulped.

"He's uh…Mr. Bertinelli's not in."

Oliver rolled his eyes. His mood had soured and he didn't have the patience to play this game. "Listen kid, we know he's in the back playing one of his poker games. We're not here to arrest him. We just have some questions. Go get him."

The clerk gulped again and nodded. He disappeared through a door behind him.

Oliver turned back to Diggle. "Didn't you hear what I said to her? I never told her anything about not being important to the investigation."

"It was implied, Oliver," Diggle sighed.

"Like hell it was," Oliver denied. "I said she distracts me because when she's around I spend more time thinking about her or worrying about her than I do the case. God knows why. It's fucking with my mind and apparently my job."

"Really?" Diggle challenged. "Is that what you said? Because it's not what I heard."

"Detective Queen! Detective Diggle! To what do I owe the honor?" Frank Bertinelli emerged from the back room wiping his hands on a towel. Oliver and Diggle turned towards the man.

"Save the pleasantries, Frank," Oliver responded coolly. "As you might know, ADA Laurel Lance was found murdered this morning."

Frank's face didn't change. "Is that so? Tragic. She really was a promising young attorney."

"Interesting that you'd think that since she'd prosecuted you three times in the past five years," Diggle deadpanned.

Frank laughed humorlessly. "Yes, and yet here I am. She had promise because she was bad enough at what she did to ensure my freedom to me. I would have felt good about her as the district attorney in a few years when Blood retires."

Oliver felt his irritation rising. "All we need are your security videos and access to your purchase logs. Then we'll be out of your way. For now."

Frank eyed him. "I'm assuming you wouldn't dare make that demand without a warrant?"

Diggle smiled and pulled his phone from his pocket. With a few taps on the screen, he pulled up the copy of the warrant that Chief Michaels had emailed to him. He turned it towards the grey-haired man who eyed it carefully.

Frank looked up at Oliver and Diggle with a raised eyebrow. "I don't suppose I get to know why you need my records?"

"Have you had anyone in here looking to buy materials commonly used in making explosives?" Oliver questioned.

Frank narrowed his eyes. "You're going to have to be more specific. Half the things that are sold in here could, in theory, be used to make explosives," the older man hedged.

Oliver stared at him. Giving Frank Bertinelli more information than was necessary was never a good idea. The man had more connections than the SCPD even on their best day, and it was a guarantee that whatever information Bertinelli learned from this encounter, they would all know as soon as he disappeared into the back again. If the killer knew Bertinelli, he or she could be tipped off that the authorities were on their trail. "Just get us the records. We'll look for what we need."

Frank smirked. "Fine. How far back you want them?"

"Give us the past year, just to be safe," Diggle said evenly.

"And don't forget the security footage," Oliver added.

Frank's eyes flashed in irritation, then he disappeared into the back.

"What do you think?" Oliver murmured to Diggle while they waited.

Diggle shook his head. "Even if the killer bought supplies here, I doubt Frank knew. He's not that involved with the day-to-day operations."

Oliver nodded in agreement. It was pretty well known that this store was only a front for his illegal activities. Bertinelli was pretty good about covering his tracks though. It had been impossible to make any charges stick against him in the past.

Frank emerged carrying a large plastic tub. He sat it down on the counter with a smirk.

Oliver regarded the man with narrowed eyes. "And this is…?"

"My records," Bertinelli replied. He snapped the lid off and pointed inside. The tub was filled to the top with copies of purchase receipts. Some were folded over and crumbled up, others were lying flat. There was no order to the small slips of paper whatsoever.

"You can't be serious," Diggle said. Oliver reached in to pick up a few of the receipts. There were more underneath. The entire damn tote was filled with receipts. "These are all your records?" he demanded.

Frank looked scandalized. "Of course not! This bin is only from the past two months. If you want the past year, you're going to need 5 more of these."

Oliver's jaw tightened. "Well go get them," he gritted out. Fuck. It was going to take forever to go through all of these.

Bertinelli smiled and turned to head into the back again, but stopped when he heard the chime of the door opening. All three men turned to see Felicity standing just inside the door with her phone in her hand and a slightly panicked look on her face.

"Well, hello there," Frank greeted with a smarmy grin.

Oliver didn't have time to glare at Frank because he was too anxious about whatever it was she was about to say. She didn't waste any time.

"Oliver," she began, slightly out of breath, "There's been another murder."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 **5:43 PM; Hour 8**

Oliver sat next to Felicity and Diggle in the briefing room at the precinct in the same seat he'd started in that morning. Chief Michaels was at the front of the room, addressing everyone about the newest crimes to add to the pile of shit that was today.

When Felicity had rushed into the hardware store, he'd known the news wasn't good because of the look on her face. He'd been right.

Two fellow police officers – Rene Ramirez and Maseo Yamashiro – had been shot in the head assassination style and left in a back alley in the most rundown part of Star City. Initial reports said the murders had most likely taken place this morning while everyone was preoccupied with investigating ADA Lance's death. Rene and Maseo hadn't even been working today. Both of them were bound and gagged when they were found, and Maseo's wife had told the officers who broke the news to her that her husband had run to the store that morning and had only been gone for a few hours, so she assumed something had come up, not that he had been kidnapped and murdered. Oliver didn't know either of the officers well, but anytime an officer was killed, it hit a little too close to home and put everyone on high alert.

Chief Michaels was describing the scene and telling the remaining officers the exact timeline of their deaths that had been pieced together so far. Most of the listeners watched her with somber expressions. A few of them had their heads in their hands. Felicity, who was sitting next to Oliver, watched and listened to the chief intently while her hands fidgeted together on the table in front of her.

Ray Palmer spoke up in the meeting. "Are these murders connected to Laurel Lance's death?"

Chief Michaels gave a grave look to her audience, then clicked to advance the slide. It was a picture of the bodies of the dead officers. Lying on their chests, were two dead birds.

Felicity took a strangled breath next to him, and he felt himself feeling uncharacteristically unsettled by the image too. This was the same murderer. The murderer was sending a message, and Oliver hadn't figured it out in time. He couldn't shake the feeling that the longer it took him to figure out what sick bastard was behind this, the more people that would get hurt or worse.

"Unfortunately, we can safely assume that these murders are connected," Chief Michaels answered calmly to the quiet crowd of officers.

Another young officer who Oliver didn't have a very high opinion of after a botched tech job a few months ago, a guy named Seldon, raised his hand to speak. "So where are we on the Laurel Lance case?" he asked, casting a glance towards Oliver and Diggle. "If they're connected, then I think everyone here deserves to hear what they've found and how close they are to figuring out who's behind this. More eyes on the information can't hurt."

Oliver narrowed his eyes slightly. He didn't like the tone of that demand. It almost sounded like Seldon was accusing Oliver and Diggle of not doing their due diligence.

Chief Michaels shook her head. "I appreciate the concern, Officer Seldon, but protocol states information is shared only between those actively involved in the investigation."

Seldon looked from Chief Michaels to Oliver. "Then maybe I can help? It couldn't hurt to have another tech analyst helping out in case Felicity needs a hand?"

Oliver narrowed his eyes even more. Felicity was by far the most talented tech analyst on the entire force. What this clown thought he could offer that she couldn't, Oliver couldn't even imagine. Just as he was about to tell Seldon to go back to writing speeding tickets from traffic cam footage, Felicity spoke up.

"Thanks Cooper. That could be helpful." What the hell? Oliver turned to look at her and she raised her eyebrows at him. She mouthed, what? Oliver shook his head slightly and turned back to the front.

Chief Michaels was watching them carefully. "Ok Seldon, I'd like you to help Felicity start going through some evidence that they just brought back in plastic bins. Oliver, John, you two can meet me in conference room A and we'll start hanging up the pieces on the board and looking for connections. Everyone else, I want you to hit the streets. We're looking for any information we can find about any of these three murders. Talk to your CIs. Talk to the neighbors. Talk to the random people you pass on the street. Let's find this monster."

The meeting ended and most of the officers started filing out. Felicity turned to Oliver. "Did they put the bins with receipts in the evidence room? I'll grab Cooper and we'll start going through them and logging them into the system."

"Actually," Oliver started slowly, "can I talk to you?"

Felicity looked curious and nodded. Oliver stood up and motioned for her to follow him into a small adjacent conference room. She did, and he shut the door behind them.

"So….what's this about?" she asked lightly. It didn't escape Oliver's attention that she wasn't holding his gaze. Every time he'd caught her eye since he told her to stay behind in the car at Bertinelli's, she'd looked away.

"Why did you invite Seldon to join this case?"

That got her attention, and this time, she did meet his eyes. "Why not? The job will go faster with an extra set of eyes."

"You're three times the analyst he is."

Felicity looked puzzled and a shadow crossed over her face. "I think he can be helpful, Oliver. More helpful than I've been. Plus he has a lot more field experience. Maybe he -"

"What are you talking about?" he argued, his forehead creasing in confusion.

She paused. "Like you said, I've been providing more distractions than actual help. I thought I was ready to step up my field work, but maybe I'm not ready -"

Oliver could hear his own blood rushing in his ears. "I never said that."

She crossed her arms and made a face. "Yes you did. And you're probably right."

"No I didn't!" he denied heatedly. "I would never say that because it's the opposite of the truth. You've been invaluable on this case."

"You don't need to flatter me, Oliver. I'm a professional. I can take it."

Oliver shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. He winced when he realized he'd used his injured arm and a stinging pain shot through him. He saw her wince in response. Where was this attitude of hers coming from? "How can you not see….Felicity, you saved the lives of everyone at that crime scene today. You recovered valuable information from a flash drive as easy as if you were checking your own email, and you figured out Laurel's cause of death after looking at the toxicology report for a grand total of forty seconds."

"Yes, and I also got you shot."

Oliver's mouth fell open. "That wasn't your fault."

Her crossed arms tightened around her torso, and she raised her chin defiantly. "Then why didn't you want me to go into the hardware store with you? It's fine Oliver. Just say it. You were afraid I'd get you both hurt again."

Fuck. "That's what you think?"

"That's what you said," she challenged.

"I did not say that," Oliver practically growled. God, first Digg and now her? Had he really made them both think he didn't count her as a valuable member of this team?

She ignored him and looked away from him. "It's really ok. If me stepping back will keep you both safer, then I want to do it. You and Digg have been so good to me. I would never want to do something that might put either of you in danger."

Out of patience for her current line of thought, Oliver stepped towards her. "You stepping back would almost guarantee we'd be in more danger," he argued. "I asked you not to go into Bertinelli's shop because it would distract me."

"I know. That's what I said -"

"You don't understand," Oliver huffed. He had the urge to reach out and frame her face with his hands so he could make her look at him. He stuffed them into his pockets instead. "I meant it would distract me. Bertinelli is known for being unpredictable, and you would have distracted me because I'd be worried about something going wrong. For some reason I…worry…about you." She looked up at him then and his throat felt tight. "I'm not used to it, and it distracts me."

The shadow in her eyes slowly started to lift and she regarded him with curiosity. "It's normal to worry about your friends, Oliver."

Oliver frowned. "But we're not friends." Felicity's eyes widened and she stepped back like he'd slapped her. Fuck he was making this worse. "That's not…Felicity, I'm not friends with anyone here."

She looked at him like he had two heads. "Yes you are."

"No, I'm not."

"What about Diggle?"

"Diggle and I work closely together. We have a partnership at work. But we're not friends."

Felicity looked at him for a minute and then let out a humorless laugh. "I think you need some sleep." Oliver huffed in frustration. "Like it or not, you're my friend," she continued, stepping towards him and holding his gaze. "Ever since that first case where you brought me that laptop with bullet holes in it, I've considered you my friend. I've acted like your friend every time I've gotten out of bed in the middle of the night to meet you down here for some case or another. I've acted like your friend when I've eaten lunch with you in the breakroom. I've acted like your friend every time one of the beat cops criticizes you for being an ass and I tell them they just don't know you."

This time it was Oliver's turn to feel like he'd been slapped. He watched her get closer to him, the hurt and anger in her eyes burning him.

"You've always been my friend, Oliver," she said in a low voice as she came to a stop just in front of him. "If you don't want me as one of yours, that's fine. But that doesn't change that you're mine."

He couldn't form words as she shook her head sadly and walked past him and out of the room. He ran a shaky hand over his face. How did he always manage to fuck things up even worse? He'd been trying to tell her he valued her. That he thought she was irreplaceable and that she should never doubt that. And somehow instead he'd let her walk away thinking he didn't want to be near her and that he didn't appreciate her kindness or her help.

Diggle was right. All those beat cops were right. He really was an ass.

Oliver walked mechanically into Conference Room A where Digg was already starting to hang important pieces of information onto the case board. When Diggle saw him, he frowned. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing," Oliver mumbled, making his way over to the case file sitting open on the table.

"You look like someone just ate the last donut in the break room," Diggle teased.

"Leave it alone, Digg," Oliver grumped. He didn't feel like rehashing what had just happened. He wanted to focus on the case.

"How did your talk with Felicity go? I saw you pull her into the conference room." Diggle was watching him closely, so Oliver refused to react. "Did you apologize for having her sit out back at Bertinelli's?"

Oliver huffed. "I did. Kind of."

"Kind of?"

"I told her if she distanced herself from this investigation, we'd all be in more danger because of it." Oliver refused to look at Diggle. Instead, he arranged the three shots of the three corpses in a row on the table and began to study them.

"Damn straight," Diggle confirmed. There was silence for a beat. Oliver could feel Diggle's eyes on him, but he still refused to look at him. "What else happened?"

Oliver sighed. "Nothing. I told her we weren't friends – which is true - and she left the room."

Diggle barked out a laugh. Oliver did look at him then, irritated. Diggle stopped laughing. "You're serious? You told her that?"

"I also told her I'm not friends with you. I don't see what the difference is."

Diggle pretended to be hurt and raised a hand to his heart. Oliver glared, and he laughed again and shook his head. "Oliver, you're a damn fool."

"Thanks," Oliver deadpanned, turning his attention back to the crime scene photos.

"You act more friendly with that girl than anyone I've ever seen you with. Myself included."

"No, I don't. We're not friends."

Diggle let out an exasperated sigh. "When are you going to stop lying to yourself?"

Oliver slammed the picture he was holding down on the table angrily, his patience snapping. "You know why I refuse to be friends with people I work with."

Diggle remained calm, leaning back against the wall. "Yes, and I also know that it's a load of bullshit. Telling yourself, and her, that you're not friends with anyone here is just empty words. And they're not words you should say to her."

"What should I have said to her, Digg? That I like spending time with her? That I like bringing her coffee because it makes her smile? That I like to hear her talk on and on about things I usually don't give a fuck about?"

"That would be a start," Diggle replied, crossing his arms with a smile on his face.

Oliver could feel his annoyance vibrating under his skin. "Just because I like to be around her, it doesn't make us friends."

"Oliver, being her friend isn't going to mess up this case or get her hurt."

"You can't know that."

"She's not Roy."

The words hung in the air between them. Oliver let them ring around in his head over and over again, echoing louder with each second. Of course Felicity wasn't Roy. And thank fuck she wasn't because even the thought of what happened to Roy happening to her… She wasn't Roy, but that didn't mean he shouldn't learn from what happened with Roy and keep his distance. Having no friends meant having no one to lose.

Diggle was looking at him with pity when Chief Michaels walked in.

"Ok, so where are we?" she questioned seriously. "We now have one dead attorney and two dead cops. People are going to want answers soon."

Oliver and Diggle automatically fell back into the professional routine they knew so well. Oliver started by tacking up the three pictures of the victims to the corkboard that took up the entire wall. "Well, we have Laurel Lance being killed mostly likely Wednesday night at a bar or club, and now Maseo and Rene were killed in an alley. The cause of death in each case is different, the place is different, the time is different."

"The only thing linking them is the bird feathers around Laurel's body and the dead birds on top of Rene and Maseo," Diggle finished. Oliver tacked up the picture of the feathers and the dead birds under each of the bodies.

Chief Michaels stepped forward, looking at the board. "So what connects these three victims?"

"That's what we need to figure out next," Diggle supplied.

"We also need to figure out the significance of the birds," Oliver said. He tacked up Laurel's toxicology report under her picture. "Felicity said the neurotoxin used to kill Laurel can be found in a rare poisonous bird. Whoever is doing this is using birds as a message."

"So there's some sort of connection between these three individuals and birds," Chief Michaels mused.

They were all startled when Felicity barreled into the room carrying a small white receipt. "I think we found something!" she called a little breathlessly. Cooper slinked into the room behind her, his eyes roaming over the evidence already listed on the board. "This receipt," Felicity began, walking to Oliver and handing it to him, "Shows a transaction a week ago for the exact combination of materials that was on that flash drive. There's no signature and the person paid in cash, but there's a date and time stamp. We can use the security footage to see the person who bought these items!"

Oliver stared at her in amazement.

"How did you find this so quickly?" Diggle asked, equally as stunned.

Felicity smiled and shook her head. "It was Cooper. I told him about the flash drives and how we recovered the information from one of them. This was one of the first receipts he picked up!"

Oliver, Diggle, and Chief Michaels turned to look at Cooper who smiled smugly. "Just luck I guess." Oliver watched him carefully. There was something off about that kid. Oliver had thought so since the first time he'd worked with him. In fact, it was after Cooper had totally dropped the ball in analyzing a laptop that Oliver had asked for Felicity's help for the first time.

"Luck?" Oliver asked skeptically, crossing his arms.

Cooper shrugged.

"Ok, well we'll need to pull that security footage up as soon as possible," Chief Michaels commanded.

Oliver turned to Felicity and saw she was staring at the wall with the pictures, a frown on her face. He could practically see the gears in her mind turning and her face falling a little with each new thought. She sucked in a breath and turned to them. Her eyes were wide and panicked.

"What is it?" Diggle questioned.

Felicity looked at Oliver. "Do you remember the case I told you that I worked with Laurel on?"

Oliver watched her, trying to follow her line of thought. "Yeah, you said something about a drug cartel, right?"

Felicity gulped. "Damien Darhk was running a drug cartel to bring Vertigo tablets into the city. He was using shipments of chickens and turkeys to hide his products. I helped Laurel and our contact across the border put a digital tracking device on one of the birds, then he was busted just when he got into the city. With my tech, we had proof of location and we also had voice recordings as further evidence."

Oliver could feel his blood pressure rising as she spoke. He had a feeling he knew where this was going, and he wanted her to stop. He wanted to be wrong.

"Obviously I was just a small part of the investigation. Laurel was working with an international team on it, and they only asked me to help because no one had been able to crack the signal jamming frequency Darhk was using. I didn't even testify until the very end because Laurel said my testimony would be like the final nail in his coffin. But," she turned to look at the crime scene photos again and shuddered. "The birds. I knew there was something off about leaving the bird feathers behind and now the birds at the scene of the other murders…"

"So, what? Dahrk killed Laurel with bird poison in retaliation for her targeting him?" Diggle questioned. "How do Maseo and Rene figure in? Is he just killing randomly?"

Felicity turned back to look at them all again. Her face drained of color as she shook her head. "Maseo and Rene were the officers on sight to arrest him. They testified in court the day before I did."

Oliver stopped breathing. No. No. No. No.

Felicity looked right at him, the mixture of fear and panic in her eyes unmistakable. "He's killing everyone involved in the case in retaliation for targeting him."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **6:15 PM; Hour 8**

Oliver thought he'd experienced fear before. He'd felt it creep up as a child when it was storming and the shadows from the trees created silhouettes against the ornately decorated walls of his bedroom. He'd felt it at the Academy when he had been close to failing out because he was having trouble passing the stupid chemistry class they required. He'd felt it in the field a few times when bullets had come a little too close to ending his life.

But he'd never felt fear the way he felt it while he stood in the conference room listening to Felicity tell them all that _she_ was somewhere on the list of potential victims for the deranged killer they were hunting. The madman who had already killed three people.

This fear seeped through his veins like ice, chilling his skin and making his limbs feel heavy. This fear was rooted in the feeling that he was powerless. That Felicity's lifeless body might be the next one hung up on that wall. He blinked, and he could almost see her. Pale and motionless. Her eyes closed. Her normally bright lips colorless.

His stomach revolted at the image and he struggled to catch his breath. All this time he'd been telling himself he wasn't getting attached to her, but while he wasn't paying attention she'd become so ingrained in his subconscious that the thought of losing her was more painful than any bullet he'd ever taken.

He'd give anything to be on that list instead of her.

Felicity stood before them all, white as a sheet, her hands trembling at her sides. The four of them – Oliver, Diggle, Chief Michaels, and Cooper Seldon – watched her with similarly shocked expressions.

Chief Michaels was the first to speak. "Ok. Ok, so if Darhk's case is the connection, who's doing the killing? Wasn't he convicted?"

"Yes, he's in Iron Heights right now," Felicity whispered, her eyes sliding to the side in thought.

Diggle stepped forward, reaching for the case file on the table and shuffling through it.

Chief Michaels turned to Cooper. "I want you to go get me everything we've got on that court case, and I want a full report on everything we know about Damien Darhk. Family, known associates, everything. And I want it in ten minutes."

Cooper nodded and disappeared.

"Chief Michaels," Felicity began, her eyes lighting up with a new frenzy. "We need a list of every person involved with that trial. Everyone who testified or served on the jury could be in danger. We need to warn them right now!"

"We will, once we have our facts straightened out," Chief Michaels promised. "Right now we need the manpower out there looking for the killer, not warning the public of a threat that might not even come to pass."

"I'll do it," Felicity volunteered quickly, walking around the table towards Chief Michaels. "Cooper can do any tech jobs you need. I'll call the people on the list. I'll go visit them if I have to. Someone has to -"

"You're not leaving this building," Oliver countered, stepping in her way. She stepped back and looked up at him with furrowed brows.

"Don't be ridiculous Oliver. We're talking about the lives of potentially over a hundred people that might have had a hand in this case. Someone has to think about them." She took a breath. "Besides, I'm sure I'm low on the list. I'm just an analyst." She looked to Chief Michaels suddenly. "We need to start with the judge from the case! Dollars to donuts she'll be one of the next targets."

"You're not low on the list," Oliver said gravely. Her eyes snapped to his. She knew. Of course she knew. She was ten times smarter than everyone in this room, yet she was still going to make him say it. "The poisoned flash drives at the scene? Who do you think they were trying to get with those?"

"That doesn't prove anything," she replied, shaking her head.

Oliver stepped towards her, watching her reaction carefully. "Then what about the SUV that pulled up and tried to kill you? We thought the killer was just looking for casualties, but he was just looking for one specifically."

Felicity's eyes ghosted over his injured shoulder and then back up to his face. "Even if that was for me, it doesn't change the fact that we need to warn everyone who was on that case."

"You're right. But it does mean you're not leaving the station."

He crossed his arms and dared her to fight him on this. He was positive Diggle would back him up. Now that they had a pretty good suspicion that Felicity was at the high end of the killer's hit list, there wasn't a chance in hell she was going anywhere without him or Diggle with her as backup.

"Oliver's right," Chief Michaels spoke up. Oliver watched Felicity's face fall at the words. Her hands started to shake again and she sank down into a nearby chair. "Whether you're at the top or bottom of the list, you're in danger. You can consider yourself in protective custody starting now."

"But…" Felicity's voice shook slightly as she looked up at Chief Michaels. "I can still help, right? You're not taking me off the case?"

"We need you on this case," Oliver jumped in, not even entertaining the idea that Chief Michaels might take her off the case. He turned to look at his boss. "We can't do this without her."

Chief Michaels nodded. "Of course. Felicity, your help would be much appreciated as long as you stay here. Safe."

Felicity nodded adamantly.

"Lyla, look at this," Diggle said, pointing to something in the file folder. Chief Michaels made his way over to him.

Oliver watched Felicity. Her arms were resting across her knees, and her hands and knees were trembling. She was biting her lip and staring off into space with a distant look on her face. She looked scared, and Oliver hated it. He stepped towards her and sat down in the chair next to her. She didn't acknowledge him. He reached over and rested his hand on her jean-covered knee. The shaking in her leg stilled under his touch, and she looked up at him. She looked stricken.

"Felicity," his voice felt thick. "You're going to be okay. We'll find who's doing this and we'll catch them."

She shook her head, the wide-eyed look on her face not subsiding. "I know that. I'm not worried about myself."

Well he fucking was. But he'd known since he met her that he was much more selfish than she was, so that wasn't a surprise. Of course she'd be worried about everyone else who could possibly be on the killer's hit list instead of herself.

"Oliver, there were _so many_ people involved in that case. Now that we know who's being targeted, we have to keep them all safe." Her eyes were shiny, but her voice was strong. "I don't think I'll be able to live with myself if anyone else from the list dies before we catch this maniac."

Oliver nodded. He didn't want anyone else to get hurt either. Least of all, her. The faster they closed this case, the better.

Cooper shuffled into the room carrying a few file folders. He plopped them down onto the table. "Here are the case files you asked for," he announced. Felicity launched forward to open the file. Oliver followed behind her, watching over her shoulder as she grabbed a highlighter, scanned through the papers, and set them aside one by one.

Chief Michaels and Diggle approached them too. "Felicity, I want you going through the trial notes and making a list of every person who could possibly be on Darhk's list."

Felicity nodded, not looking up. Oliver was pretty sure she was already doing that.

"Oliver," Chief Michaels began. "I want you to go with Cooper to start looking through the security footage from Bertinelli's to see if we can get an image of whoever purchased the explosive material from the receipt."

Oliver was about to protest, but Chief Michaels silenced him with a hard look. He didn't want to go with Cooper to look at security camera footage. He wanted to stay with Felicity and Diggle, looking for the killer. His gut churned uneasily at the thought of letting Felicity out of his sight now that he knew she was a target for the murderer.

"John and I will start going through the information on Darhk to make a list of known associates," Chief Michaels finished.

Cooper stepped up next to Oliver. "We can use my terminal to review the tapes." Oliver glanced at Felicity who was engrossed in poring over the case file and highlighting every name she came across. She didn't look up, and he noticed Diggle staring at him out of the corner of his eye, so he nodded at Cooper and followed him out of the room.

Cooper led Oliver to what they usually called the "Tech Corner." All the technology analysts had workstations in one corner of the building. Cooper's happened to be just across the aisle from Felicity's. While Felicity's cubicle was scattered with books and reports and random pieces of tech, Cooper's was the opposite. His desk was clean and sleek – as if keeping anything on it, even a pen, would greatly offend him. Oliver had always wondered if the guy was ever even _working_ , that's how clean he kept his desk.

"OK, so Bertinelli's security footage is on unlabeled DVDs, so we'll have to pop then in one by one to find out which one corresponds to the date and time we need."

 _No shit, Sherlock_ , Oliver thought sarcastically. In fact, he could probably do that job himself. Maybe he should suggest to Cooper that his help was no longer needed? Cooper pulled an extra chair up to the desk and motioned for Oliver to sit. Oliver did so, begrudgingly abandoning his previous idea.

Cooper sat the receipt down on the desk and opened his laptop.

"So," Cooper began, clicking a few keys. "What do you think about this Damien Darhk thing?" Oliver resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He wasn't in the mood for small talk with Seldon. He wanted to get this job done, then get back upstairs to where the real work was being done. "It just seems a little far-fetched to me," he continued.

Oliver looked at the smaller man then, narrowing his eyes a little. "Why?"

Cooper cleared his throat and continued to type. He didn't type near as fast as Felicity, Oliver noticed. "Look, don't get me wrong, Felicity is great." Oliver already knew he wasn't going to like the next thing out of Cooper's mouth. "But she sometimes gets herself worked up unnecessarily."

Oliver felt his hands clench into fists under the desk. He forced them to relax. "Felicity is a valuable asset to the SCPD," he gritted out.

"I know!" Cooper said quickly, glancing nervously at Oliver. "I just mean she's a little… out there. And to me, the whole 'Damien killing people from his prison cell' thing seems kind of off."

"It's better than every other theory we've had," Oliver argued in a low voice.

Cooper cast another glance at him. "It seems a little convenient that she's on the potential list of targets, don't you think?"

Oliver was seeing red now. Was Cooper _trying_ to get his ass kicked? "How the hell is that _convenient_?"

"Well this is her first big case here, right? She weasels her way into getting a field position on the team – a position a more senior analyst like myself should have been chosen for – and then she happens to be the target of the killer being investigated? It just seems like a strange coincidence."

"This conversation is over," Oliver seethed. He made sure his voice left no doubt that he meant it. Where the hell had that even come from? Did Seldon have some kind of working rivalry with Felicity? If he did, Oliver almost felt bad for him since there's no reality in which he would ever 'win' anything against her. And he wasn't going to sit here and listen to Cooper imply that Felicity was pulling strings or something with this case in order to advance her career. In fact, that was one of the most nonsensical accusations Oliver had ever heard.

"Ok," Cooper mumbled awkwardly, inserting the first disk into the drive on his computer.

Oliver stewed in silence while Cooper rotated through the CDs looking for the one that had the correct date on it. What the actual fuck was Cooper even talking about? Why would he think Felicity would purposely put herself onto some kind of killer target list? That would imply she was working with Darhk all along, which made no sense whatsoever. Not only because Oliver was damn sure that if there was _anyone_ in this entire department who couldn't be turned it was Felicity, but also because he'd been there when they'd been shot at. If Oliver hadn't seen the car, she would have been hit. And based on the trajectory of where the bullet hit _him_ after she was out of the way, the person in that car wasn't aiming for a flesh wound.

So where did Cooper – someone who'd just joined this investigation within the last hour and who didn't know shit about what they'd already been through today – get off suggesting anything about her or this case?

Oliver couldn't stand him. In fact, he was going to formally request that Seldon be removed from the case as soon as he could get Chief Michaels alone.

"Hey, I think I found it," Cooper said nonchalantly, drawing Oliver's attention to the screen. Oliver watched as Cooper fast-forwarded to the time on the receipt and pressed play. They both leaned forward to watch the scene.

There was nothing.

Literally nothing.

The camera showed no one at the register – not even a clerk. Oliver frowned and reached around Cooper to fast-forward a bit more. Still nothing. He glanced down at the receipt. "Maybe that 3 is really an 8," he suggested, nodding to Cooper to change the time to accommodate the possibility.

Oliver was getting a bad feeling about this.

Cooper adjusted the time and pressed play. Still nothing.

They'd been played. Oliver looked at Cooper who had a strangely impassive face. "That's weird," Cooper said. "Maybe their register doesn't record the correct date or time."

Oliver grabbed the receipt and stood up. He ignored Cooper saying something behind him and marched down the hall towards Conference Room A where Chief Michaels and the rest of the team were. He heard Cooper scramble to get up and follow him. Oliver didn't wait.

When he barged into the room, all three of them looked up from the table with startled expressions.

"We have a problem," Oliver announced. He reached behind him and shut the door just as Cooper was approaching. He turned the lock, then turned back to his team. They were all looking at him like he'd lost his mind.

Cooper knocked on the door. Oliver huffed and turned around. He held up a finger to the window, indicating for Cooper to wait a minute, then pulled down the shades so Cooper couldn't see inside.

"Oliver, what are you _doing_?" Felicity demanded, standing up.

Oliver held up the receipt. "This? Is fake."

Felicity rushed forward to take it from his hands and inspect it. "What?" Diggle questioned incredulously.

"The time stamp on this receipt matches up to a time on the surveillance video where there is _no one_ in the store. The clerk was restocking shelves."

Felicity, Diggle, and Chief Michaels looked at him in disbelief.

"You're sure?" Chief Michaels asked.

Annoyed, Oliver ran his hand through his hair. "Of course I'm sure." Diggle gave him a pointed look, and Oliver lowered his voice. "I'm sure," he repeated more calmly. "So either someone tampered with the recording -"

"Probably impossible," Felicity mumbled, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Or the receipt is a fake."

Diggle sighed and ran a hand over his face. The room was silent for a moment while the news sank in.

Felicity was the first to speak. "How could Bertinelli have had time to plant a fake receipt? And one that matched the exact materials that we found on the flash drive?"

"I don't think it was Bertinelli," Oliver said gravely, earning him some more silence.

"Then who, Oliver?" Diggle questioned.

Oliver felt his own jaw tense as he mulled over the words he was about to say. "Unless Bertinelli is tied up with this case – which I think is unlikely because I've been keeping pretty close tabs on him ever since he got off on those racketeering charges a couple months ago -" He paused when Chief Michaels gave him a disapproving look. "I know it's not strictly legal, but it is what it is," he huffed in frustration. "Anyway, I don't think it was him. I think that receipt was planted here at the station."

Felicity sucked in a breath and Diggle turned around held his temples with his hands.

"Think about it," Oliver demanded, stepping towards the wall where the pictures of evidence were hanging. He pointed off to the side where they'd hung the description of the dark SUV that had shot at them as well as Felicity's statement on the incident. "Felicity went up to this car by herself and they left. Then they show back up later and try to kill her. Why not kill her when she approached them? Unless they didn't know it was her until someone told them."

Felicity was watching him with wide eyes. He looked away from her because he didn't like saying things that upset her, but they all needed to hear this.

"That doesn't prove anything. Maybe they googled her after they left?" Diggle spoke up.

Oliver looked at him in exasperation. "Ok fine. Then what about this receipt not matching the security footage? Those totes from Bertinelli's were sitting in evidence for almost an hour while we were in the briefing about Maseo and Rene's deaths."

"Yes, but we were all _in_ that meeting, Oliver," Diggle challenged.

"And _no one_ could have slipped out for a minute? No one could have arrived a few minutes late?"

"You're suggesting that one of my officers is a … double agent of sorts? Planting evidence and feeding information to the killer?" Chief Michaels said evenly. Oliver could tell by her face that she wasn't convinced. Diggle didn't seem to be either.

Oliver wanted to pull his hair out. This _had_ to be it. He'd felt like the killer was one step ahead of him this whole time, and now it made sense why. There was a rat here at the station reporting their moves back to him.

"I think Oliver might be right," Felicity spoke up quietly. He looked at her gratefully, and she gave him a small smile as she stepped to stand next to him. "Of course I'll want to look at the footage to see if it was tampered with instead of the receipt, but it makes sense. With as meticulous as this killer has been so far, I doubt they would have sent in a drive-by shooter unless they knew somehow that we'd found the poison on the flash drives and that it wasn't going to work." She looked at Maseo and Rene's pictures. "It would also explain how they knew Maseo and Rene would be off today, where to find them, and when to kill them so that it was least likely the police would notice."

Cooper pounded on the door again, seemingly out of patience for being left out.

"Don't," Oliver warned as Felicity turned towards the door. She looked at him curiously. "If there's a rat somewhere in here, then the fact that we suspect him or her needs to be kept just between us."

Chief Michaels nodded. "Trust me," she started warily, "the last thing I'm going to do is announce to a bunch of law enforcement officials that we suspect that one of them is working with the murderer who killed two of their colleagues." She gave Oliver and Felicity a hard look. "You both feel really strongly about this?"

Oliver nodded. "I do." He saw Felicity nod out of the corner of his eye. "At the very least, it's a strong possibility. And because of that, we need to take it seriously."

Chief Michaels and Diggle both sighed in agreement. "Ok we'll add your… suspicions…to our list of things to contemplate," Chief Michaels said. "And we'll keep it between us. Now let Seldon in before he knocks again."

Felicity turned to open the door, and Oliver shrugged when the sulky analyst threw him a glare as he passed. Oliver resisted the urge to rearrange the dick's face.

He was on edge. Someone in the precinct was feeding information to the killer. The same precinct where they were all supposed to feel safe. The place Felicity – who Oliver was convinced was high up on the target list – was supposed to be staying so she couldn't be hurt. And it could be anyone. For all he knew, Cooper was the damn mole. There was no safety here, and there was no safety outside of here.

Oliver had never felt such an intense _need_ to keep someone safe, but when he looked up and caught Felicity looking at him with a sad curiosity, the feeling overwhelmed him. This woman had been better to him in the few months he'd known her than most of the people he'd known his entire life. He wouldn't let some case she worked as a favor to Laurel be the reason she got hurt. In fact, he wouldn't let her get hurt, period. As far as he was concerned, this case had become just as much about protecting Felicity as it was about solving the mystery and finding the killer.

She wasn't Roy, and he was going to make damn sure she stayed that way.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 **7:00; Hour 9**

Once Cooper was back inside the room, the team started to compare notes – the core team keeping to their instructions to not let on that they suspected a mole somewhere in the SCPD. While Oliver and Cooper had been on a wild goose chase through Bertinelli's security camera footage, Felicity had created a list of every person who had any connection whatsoever to the Damien Darhk case. It turned out that the list was longer than expected – just under 150 people.

When she presented her list for them to look at, she bit her lip and her face went white. Oliver knew she was thinking about what would happen if they didn't get to someone on the list on time.

"I've color coded the list based on their involvement in the conviction. People who had high involvement and would probably be considered highly culpable in his arrest and sentencing – like the judge – are marked in red. People who were involved but were more isolated in their involvement – like witnesses – are marked in yellow, and people who were involved only as bystanders – like the bailiffs – are marked in blue." She pointed at each group of names as she explained. "I think we should focus our efforts on the reds, then once they're warned and secured, move to the yellows and so on."

"You've marked yourself as a yellow?" Diggle questioned. "Not a red?"

Felicity threw a look towards Oliver. "I don't think there's enough evidence to suggest that I'm in any more danger than the average yellows on this list."

Oliver crossed his arms and glared at her. "And if we disagree?"

Felicity's brows furrowed as she looked between them. "I don't think I need near the level of protection that these other," she tapped her hand against the group of people whose names were written in red, "people do. We only have so many officers. They need to be dedicated to putting these people in protective custody now."

"Felicity's right," Cooper spoke up from where he was seated at the back of the room. "She was just a witness. The judge and jury should be our priority right now."

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Of course you'd think that."

"What does that mean?" Cooper demanded.

Oliver could feel his annoyance buzzing under his skin. "Forgive me if I don't think we should take advice about her safety from the guy who was just telling me he thought he deserved to work this case more than she did."

Felicity stared at him, and then at Cooper. Her face didn't change much, but Oliver noticed a sadness creeping into her eyes. Damn. She probably didn't need to know that her fellow analyst was a total asshole.

"Well, I am standing right here," she said evenly. "And I can decide what kind of protection I'll be using." She paused and her face turned pink. "That sounded weird. You know what I meant." Oliver smirked. "Police protection. Like someone or something guarding my body." She winced. "Which I don't need because I'm telling you I'm low on the list and I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself."

"See?" Cooper said haughtily, glaring at Oliver.

Oliver didn't stop looking at Felicity. "What was your last score on your firearms qualification test?" Oliver questioned seriously.

She raised her chin defiantly. "48 out of 50."

Hm. That was pretty good. Not as good as his perfect score, but better than probably most of the officers here and far above the score she'd need to pass.

"See? Perfectly capable. Now let's talk about devoting our resources elsewhere."

"Yeah, we'll see," Oliver mumbled. She might not know it yet, but there was no way in hell she was going home without a trusted officer to back her up just in case.

"I'll assemble the masses as soon as we're done here to head out to contact everyone you've marked in red," Chief Michaels said, picking up a sheet of paper and hanging it on the wall. "John and I were looking through Darhk's file for known associates. He's currently serving out his sentence in Iron Heights, so he can't physically be the one committing these murders. It's either someone working as an accomplice or someone doing it on his behalf."

Diggle picked up her train of thought. "We've narrowed the list down to people of interest. At the top of the list is his wife, Ruvé Darhk. Laurel was never able to make a case against her, but from the trial notes it looks like she was an important figure in Darhk's organization."

"She's also been visiting him in Iron Heights almost daily since his conviction," Chief Michaels added.

Oliver walked over to look at the information about Ruvé Darhk that had been tacked onto the wall. She had dark hair and wasn't smiling in her picture – but that wasn't uncommon on reports like this. The report said she'd only ever been arrested once, and that was for failing to report a firearm in her car when she'd been pulled over. She'd easily made bail, then hadn't come up on the radar since.

"But the person in the SUV was a male," Felicity interjected.

Diggle nodded. "Sounds to me like whoever is behind this is working with a team." He caught Oliver's eye. Yes, a team of criminals and police officers it seemed.

"I don't know…" Cooper began, stretching his arms, "Darhk's wife plotting some massive revenge scheme and then enlisting random footsoldiers to carry it out? Seems kind of far-fetched."

Felicity walked up next to Oliver, her eyebrows furrowed in thought again. "Yes…" she muttered under her breath, scanning the pages on the wall. "Cooper, that's genius!"

Cooper looked at her awkwardly. "What?"

Felicity grabbed a piece of paper off the table and a pen. Oliver scooted in to look over her shoulder as she wrote Darhk's name at the top. "What if what we're seeing is a chain of command?"

"With Darhk giving the orders from prison?" Diggle asked, looking over her other shoulder.

She nodded and drew an arrow under Darhk's name to where she wrote Ruvé's name. "Damien wants revenge on everyone who was involved in incarcerating him. Inmates in Iron Heights are allowed one hour of time in the library a day. They don't have access to email or a cloud drive or anything, but they are allowed flash drives." She drew a small flash drive that looked like a lumpy rectangle in between Damien and Ruvé's names. "Damien made the plans, then passed them to Ruvé when she visited."

Oliver nodded, starting to see where she was going with this. "Then Ruvé passed the plans on to members of Damien's cartel – who put everything in place."

"Exactly!" Felicity nodded excitedly. "All those flash drives we found? They probably all contained pieces of the plan. Of course, they've all been erased I'm sure, but a low-level cartel member probably wouldn't know that the information could be retrieved."

"Felicity, I don't think that's – " Cooper started.

"So then the question becomes why was there one flash drive left without poison? Was it intentional so we'd go looking for an explosive device that doesn't exist?"

"Probably," Cooper muttered across the room. Oliver threw him a look, and Cooper shut his mouth.

"Or was it because that was the last piece of the puzzle and it was added later than the others?" Felicity concluded.

The room was silent for a minute, digesting the idea that they might not be dealing with a killer, but rather a group of people enacting a killer's endgame.

Chief Michaels stepped up to start giving orders. "Ok, Cooper, I want you to go back through the totes that were brought in filled with Bertinelli's receipts." Cooper's face fell, and Oliver couldn't stop his smug smile over the fact that Seldon clearly didn't like his assignment. "I want you to look at every single receipt in those totes," she continued, "and see if you can find any others that match the exact list of supplies as the fake one. Maybe the real one is in there somewhere."

Cooper nodded and left the room with a sigh.

"Felicity," Chief Michaels started. "I want you looking at the security camera footage to make sure it wasn't tampered with. We have to rule out the possibility that Bertinelli is working with Darhk on this."

"Got it," Felicity replied, leaving her seat to head towards Cooper's terminal where the CDs were.

"John, Oliver," Chief Michaels finished. I want you two to bring in Ruvé Darhk for questioning, and I want it done as quickly as possible."

* * *

Four hours and two pizzas in the breakroom later, and the team had hit a wall. Cooper had searched through almost all of the receipts and hadn't found a single one that had the explosive ingredients on it that they were looking for. Felicity had concluded after running some tests that the security camera footage had not been tampered with – which meant the receipt they'd found had definitely been planted. By whom remained to be seen. Oliver and Diggle had brought Ruvé Darhk in for questioning, only to release her two hours later because she wouldn't stop crying. They told her not to leave town (and assigned two plain-clothes officers to keep an eye on her). They planned to pay her a visit tomorrow to interview her.

So there they were, at almost 11 PM, out of leads for the moment.

Felicity was sitting at the conference room table staring blankly at her laptop and rubbing her temples. She had been watching the footage from the hardware store for over an hour just looking for anything out of place.

Diggle sat at the end of the table reading through some of the more detailed depositions and notes from the trial looking for any further clues that could tie Darhk to this case besides the circumstantial evidence they were already working with.

Oliver was across from Felicity – writing down every detail of every clue they'd already gathered and trying to find anything they might have missed. They needed an ID on the drive-by shooter, the person who had drugged Laurel, the person who had killed Maseo and Rene, or the person who'd potentially purchased materials to make a homemade explosive. Without an ID of someone specific that could tie this all back to Damien, Oliver doubted they had enough to get a warrant to search his wife's house.

"You three need to go home and get some rest," Chief Michaels announced as she entered the room stirring her coffee.

Oliver scoffed and shook his head.

"Are all the red names in protective custody yet?" Felicity asked.

"They are. I've instructed the officers who are not needed to keep an eye on the reds to start moving to notify the yellow names," she took a sip of her coffee and looked up. "I was serious. We need you three at your best in the morning. Go home."

"Lyla, we can't sleep on a case like this," Diggle said evenly.

"You can, Johnny, and you need to," she responded. "There's not much more we can do tonight. Tomorrow we'll interview Mrs. Darhk, canvass the local clubs and bars for information about Laurel's disappearance, and I'll go up to Iron Heights myself to interview Damien Darhk if I have to. But to make some headway before the banquet tomorrow night, we'll need everyone at their best."

Oliver's head snapped up. "They're not cancelling the banquet?"

Chief Michaels shook her head somberly.

"You can't be serious," Oliver said incredulously. "There's someone out there targeting people – some of whom are on this police force – and it's highly likely someone from the district is working with them, and the state still wants to hold their stupid PR event?"

"All the more reason to catch this bastard before tomorrow night," Chief Michaels responded, leveling Oliver with a look that made it clear she didn't want to talk about the banquet anymore.

"Which is why we should keep working," Felicity asserted.

Chief Michaels sighed. "If you stay here working, you'll be useless to me by tomorrow afternoon. Six hours. Go home and sleep for six hours, then be back here by 6 AM. You can all consider it an order." Before they could protest, she left the room.

Oliver sighed. Chief Michaels was probably right, and they all knew it. But something about willingly taking a break when they knew more people were in danger felt wrong. Felicity shut her laptop and started to straighten up her papers. Diggle did the same.

"I know none of us wants to rest on this one," Diggle said quietly, "but Lyla's right. With a little rest, maybe we'll be able to see something we've missed."

"Maybe," Felicity conceded. She stood up. "I'll see you guys bright and early I guess." She moved to walk towards the door.

Oliver, whose mind had been fogged over a bit thinking about the potential disasters that could come during a police banquet while a cop-killing madman was on the loose, was suddenly alert. He stood up and followed after her.

"I know you're not thinking about going home by yourself," Oliver said, trailing after her down the hallway. She was headed for the locker room.

She threw him a look over her shoulder. "I'll be fine, Oliver."

"You're on the list, Felicity," he argued. "You don't go anywhere without backup."

"Fine, I'll ask Chief Michaels if any of the guys forming the protective details are free to escort me home." She shook her head, but she was smiling slightly.

They entered the employee locker room, and Oliver grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him as soon as the door shut. She looked up at him, startled. "There's a mole somewhere in this department, remember? There's no way in hell you're going anywhere with any of them."

She regarded him skeptically. "So I can't go home alone, but I can't have a police protective detail either. Interesting suggestions you're making, Oliver. Truly inspired." She chuckled and patted his chest, careful to avoid his injured shoulder, then turned towards her locker.

"This isn't a joke." How could she be so dismissive about this? Her name was literally on a list of potential hits, and she was acting like it was no big deal.

She sighed and grabbed her coat and purse from her locker. "I know it's not, but there really aren't options here. I appreciate your concern, but I'm sure I'll be fine."

Oliver spoke before his brain had a chance to catch up. "At least let me take you home." She turned to look at him curiously. "I'll help you make sure your place is secure, and then I'll leave you alone." By that he meant he'd sit in his car all night making sure no one was getting into her building that shouldn't be. But she didn't need to know that.

"You don't need to do that," she said softly, something changing in her eyes. She looked younger or more vulnerable all of a sudden.

Oliver felt his throat getting tighter. "I'm not letting you go home alone, Felicity. I know you can take care of yourself but…just let me do this, ok?"

Her face softened. She reached out and squeezed his forearm gently. "Careful Oliver. You're getting dangerously close to friendship territory with this." Oliver huffed out a small laugh and shook his head. She held his gaze. "Thank you," she said quietly. She offered him a small smile, and he returned it with a small smile of his own.

A few minutes later, they were driving across town to her apartment. Oliver had offered to drive, saying he promised he'd pick her up in the morning (knowing he had no intention of leaving anyway). Maybe he was paranoid, but with a potential explosive device out there somewhere, he didn't want her getting anywhere near her car until he'd had his contact in the bomb squad check it out.

Felicity was chatting lightly like she did all the time. Oliver listened and let her voice calm some of the tension he was feeling about leaving her alone in her apartment. Tonight she was rambling about the first car she'd ever had back in Las Vegas where she was from. Apparently the leather interior of Oliver's car had reminded her of the beat-up and torn seats in her old hatchback.

He liked the sound of her voice. He'd liked it since she'd first talked to him. It never stopped surprising him how something so normal – like listening to her talk – could make him feel calm. Almost peaceful. Especially considering when he listened to most people talk endlessly, it had the opposite effect. But Felicity was different. She always had been.

Oliver parked the car in front of her building and they both got out. Felicity pulled her coat tighter around herself to combat the cold wind. Oliver followed behind her through the front door.

"You really don't have to come upstairs," she was saying as she made her way to the staircase along the side of the inside of the building.

Oliver huffed. "I just want to help you make sure everything's secure, then I'll be out of your hair."

She threw him a teasing smile over her shoulder. "You better be careful. I could put you to work, you know. There's a smoke detector on the ceiling that's needed batteries changed for a few weeks. I have ceiling fans that need to be dusted. The possibilities are really endless."

Oliver snorted. "Any lightbulbs need to be changed while I'm at it?" They reached the top of the stairs and he followed Felicity around a corner.

Felicity laughed. "I'm sure I could find something -" She stopped abruptly and gasped, stepping back so that her back hit against Oliver's chest. Oliver's hands instinctively clasped around the tops of her arms to steady her. "Oh no no no," she was whispering.

Oliver stepped around her easily since she seemed to be frozen in place staring at her front door.

Or rather, in front of her front door.

Oliver felt his blood freeze when he saw was she was looking at.

Lying on her front doormat was the headless body of a bird.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 **11:19 PM; Hour 13**

A dead bird.

A dead decapitated bird.

At her fucking front door.

Oliver couldn't hear anything but the rush of blood in his ears as he grabbed his gun from the holster under his arm. He clicked the safety off and advanced forward, eyes rotating between the dead-end hallway, her door, and that damn bird.

"Oliver, don't touch it!" Felicity whispered desperately, grabbing his uninjured arm and pulling it backwards.

Oliver nodded in understanding, and she let go of his arm.

He moved towards her door cautiously. The bird was lying in the center of the mat, its wings spread out awkwardly, the feathers around its neck matted and twisted where its head was supposed to be. There was no sound or movement coming from behind the door. Oliver engaged the safety on his gun again and put it away. He turned back to Felicity and saw her biting her lip and staring at the bird. He stalked toward her and grabbed her arm.

"We're leaving," he said gruffly. He heard her suck in a breath as he led her back down the stairs. This building wasn't safe. Someone had been in here who wanted to hurt her. Someone had left a dead bird for her as what? A threat? A warning? To scare her? He had to get her out of here now.

"We can't just leave," she protested weakly.

"Well, we can't stay," Oliver countered.

"Oliver, stop!" Felicity pulled back from him just as they reached the bottom of the stairs, forcing his hand to let go of her forearm. He turned around to look at her expectantly, adrenaline buzzing through his veins with the need to get her out and take her somewhere safe. "We have to call this in! There could be evidence on the bird or there could be… " She swallowed nervously. "There could be an explosive inside my apartment. I can't just leave!"

Oliver raked a hand over his face. She was right.

He yanked his phone from his pocket and dialed Chief Michaels's direct line at the station. She picked up on the first ring, and Oliver hastily explained the situation.

Fifteen minutes later, the building was swarming with police, CSIs, and a canine unit sniffing for explosives. Felicity sat on the steps outside the building with her head in her hands while Oliver conferred with the officers on the scene. The preliminary sweep had shown no explosives and no obvious poisons or toxins left anywhere. The building had been taped off, and all of Felicity's neighbors had been asked to relocate for the night as a precaution. The night crews were going to spend the night dusting for prints and running tests to make sure there weren't any invisible poisons left behind.

Felicity couldn't stay here tonight. Even if she wanted to, which Oliver highly doubted.

Chief Michaels approached him. "You need to go home Oliver. The labs will handle it from here."

Oliver ran a hand over his face to try to ease away some of the fatigue that was creeping in. "I'm fine," he denied.

"You're not. And neither is she." Chief Michaels pointed over Oliver's shoulder to Felicity. Oliver turned to glance at her and saw her head was still in her hands and her shoulders were slumped in exhaustion. "Take her home, make sure she sleeps, and don't show your face at the precinct until 8:00 AM. The case will still be here in the morning."

Oliver let out a frustrated breath, but nodded in acknowledgement. She was right, they both needed the rest. He approached Felicity, who looked up at him looking more worn than he'd ever seen her.

"You ready to go? We can get the updated reports in the morning."

"Go where?" she sighed. Her face wore a faraway look, like she was lost in thought. "I guess that Holiday Inn by the airport is nice enough and isn't too far away. Do you mind dropping me off?"

Oliver reached his hand out. She took it, and he helped her to her feet. He watched her carefully, trying to decide if she really thought he would drop her off at some hotel while there was a killer on the loose looking for her. "You're staying at my place."

Felicity looked at him in surprise. "Your place?"

"Yes."

She shook her head. "Oliver, that's really not necessary."

Still holding her hand, Oliver led her to his car. "You're not staying anywhere alone tonight," he countered. "Besides, it will save time in the morning if I don't have to come pick you up."

She looked skeptical. "You're sure? I can definitely stay at the Holiday Inn. I'm pretty sure it would be fine."

"Felicity?" He opened the passenger side door of his car. "I'm sure. Now let's go."

She just stared at him for a moment, then got in the car. Her face didn't betray her thoughts, but Oliver was pretty sure she didn't like him telling her what to do. He was just lucky they'd had a long enough day that she didn't feel like fighting him on it. Because if he was honest with himself, he didn't know what he'd do if she'd insisted on staying at a hotel. Get a room right next to hers? She'd be mad and accuse him of thinking she couldn't take care of herself, but at least he'd rest a little easier knowing he was there to watch her back all night. But since she had agreed to stay at his place, she would get to sleep somewhere safe, and he would get to rest knowing he wouldn't wake up to find out she'd been added as the fourth victim on the wall.

Really it was a win/win.

Neither of them said anything as they drove across town to Oliver's building. Oliver parked the car just outside the building and they got out.

"This is where you live?" Felicity asked, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide.

"Yep." He walked around to her side and nudged her to walk with him.

"It's…it's beautiful!" she gasped. Oliver shrugged. His building was in the heart of a thriving downtown district and was extremely old. His landlord had bought it a few years ago when it was in foreclosure and completely refurbished the outside and remodeled the inside. The historic details in the brick and molding on the outside were pretty nice, he guessed. Oliver had only been concerned at the time with finding a nice place that was close to work.

Felicity followed him into the lobby, her expression of awe never fading. He pressed the button for the elevator, and she gasped when a light flashed on the button and it turned green. "Was that…does the elevator scan fingerprints?"

"Security feature they added last year," Oliver said with a small smile.

Felicity stared at him, aghast. "You never told me you lived in a place like this!"

"Like what?"

"Like… this," she said, waving her arms around. "The fancy lights, the marble floors, the crown molding, the fingerprint activated elevator!"

Oliver smirked. He had no idea she's be this entertained by his apartment building.

"I always liked my apartment building," she continued as they stepped onto the elevator. Oliver pressed the button for his floor, and the button turned green again. "Maybe not so much now because it's going to take some time to stop imagining a headless bird outside my door. But wow! Your place puts mine to shame!"

Oliver just smiled at her enthusiasm.

The door dinged open to the 5th floor and Oliver stepped into his hallway and towards the door on the right that belonged to his apartment. He fished for his keys in his pocket, then opened the door. He held it for Felicity to walk in in front of him. It had been a while since he'd had a woman in his place. The sound of her boots clicking against the tile floor in the entryway was both foreign and strangely nice. He flipped on the lights and heard her gasp.

Her head swiveled around the large, open room – past the dark woods and granite in the kitchen and over to the soft leather of the couch and the faint glow of the electric fireplace that had turned on when he turned the lights on.

"Oliver," she breathed. She turned to look at him, her eyes wide. "You have to get me the number of your landlord." Oliver snorted and she smiled. "I hope you won't mind if I become your neighbor because holy frak this place is gorgeous!"

She walked towards the kitchen and ran her hand over the island countertop. A warm feeling was blooming in his chest as he watched her. Oliver didn't make a habit of knowing his neighbors. He knew there was an elderly woman who lived on the second floor because he'd carried her groceries in for her a couple times when she'd been struggling to lift the bags, but that was about it. Other than her, he didn't know a soul who lived in this building. And he liked it that way.

But the thought of having Felicity as a neighbor… of seeing her outside of work regularly... wasn't terrible. Maybe he'd see her on her way in from the gym, her hair up in a high ponytail like he'd seen her wear it at work a few times. Maybe she'd stop by for a glass of wine after a long day at the precinct. Maybe he could invite her over for dinner sometimes because she'd told him she hates to cook and she's not very good at it. Oliver couldn't even remember the last time he'd imagined doing that type of thing with anyone, and the thought of doing it with Felicity should have made him shut down and run like hell.

But he really didn't want to.

He'd spent all day convincing her and himself that he wasn't emotionally connected to her. That he wasn't attached. That they weren't friends.

But it was late, and he was tired.

Continuing that war with himself right now was going to take more energy than he had left tonight.

"What's this?" Felicity asked lightly. Oliver was jarred back into the moment, and saw she was holding up a small white card. "The FBI?"

Oliver cleared his throat. "Yeah, they've offered me a job out of Quantico."

Felicity's smile fell so slightly that she probably didn't notice. But it was Oliver's job to notice things like that, and the sight had the warmth he'd been feeling cooling quickly. She averted her eyes and set the card back down. "That's great! Are you…are you going to take it?"

"Maybe," Oliver responded quietly. "No. I don't know." With everything that had gone on today, he hadn't spent a single moment contemplating that offer. What he'd told Diggle this morning still applied. There was something about moving across the country that should have excited him, but instead it left a hollow ache every time he thought about it. He watched her watching him and took a deep breath. "What do you think?"

Felicity smiled. The smile didn't reach her eyes, and there was something almost sad hidden in the way she was looking at him. "I think it means you need to decide what you want."

What did he want? It had been a long time since he'd really asked himself that question. Ever since Roy…and his mom and sister moving away, he hadn't thought much past the present moment. Future plans weren't something he'd dwelled on. Before, he'd have jumped at the FBI's offer before the woman had even finished speaking. But Oliver really hadn't thought about that dream since then and now that it was in front of him, he wasn't sure he even wanted it anymore.

What he knew he wanted was to wipe that sullen look off her face. With the day she'd had, he couldn't blame her for not being her usual upbeat self, but seeing the corners of her mouth turned down slightly and the tired, dim look in her eyes sent a pang through his stomach. He'd always liked seeing her happy. Her smile was breathtaking. But the fact that seeing her happy had become a need had snuck up on him.

Oliver cleared his throat and smiled slightly. "What I want is to catch this psycho. And after he's safely locked away in a padded cell, I'm going to tell my landlord to make sure you're at the top of the list for this building when there's a vacancy." He heard Felicity huff out a small laugh while he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair. "If I'm feeling really charitable, I might even wave my badge around to make sure the message is received."

He turned back towards her and was relieved to see she was smiling softly again. But almost as soon as he saw it, he watched it fade. "Oliver, your shoulder!" she gasped, rushing around the kitchen island and gently resting her fingers on his forearm.

Oliver looked down and saw a small red stain against his shirt. "Damn," he muttered. "I must have popped a stitch or something."

Felicity bit her lip and looked up at him with wide eyes. "You need to go back to the hospital -"

"Hell no."

"Oliver."

"Felicity, I'll be fine." It didn't even hurt, really. Ok, maybe now that he was thinking about it there was a slight dull throbbing in his shoulder, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with a few Advils and a new bandage. "Just…can you grab the first aid kit from the bathroom for me?"

She nodded and took off. Oliver made quick work of tearing his shirt from his body, the subtle clanging of Felicity rooting around under his bathroom sink the only noise in the apartment. He looked down at his shoulder and tried to roll the sleeve of his undershirt up enough to reveal the wound. Because of where the bullet had entered, a small portion of the bandage was still situated under the rolled-up sleeve, but it was good enough.

Oliver was relieved to see that the bandage wasn't completely soaked through. Only one end was stained red – meaning he'd probably only loosened one or two stitches. Maybe even small enough to fix with a butterfly bandage. He started to peel back the tape around the gauze bandage as Felicity entered the room again.

"Ok, I found this shoe box with some peroxide and Band-Aids in it. If this is all the first aid supplies you have, you really need to visit a Walgreens or something and stock up," she rambled, setting the box on the counter and motioning for him to sit down in the bar stool next to it. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, but did what she said. She stepped right next to where he was seated and batted his hands away from the bandage so she could look at it. "I mean, really Oliver, I couldn't even find Neosporin."

"I don't need Neosporin," Oliver dismissed, watching her carefully as she lifted the edge of the bandage and peered under the edge at the wound. He tried to ignore the way his skin tingled when her fingertips brushed against it. Her eyes squinted as she focused and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth.

She appeared to not even notice that he was staring. It was cute.

"Yeah, it looks like just one stitch is missing. If you had - "

"There should be a butterfly bandage in there somewhere," Oliver interjected, reaching for the small box. Felicity grabbed it first and began digging through it, that same concentrated look on her face. Oliver tried not to laugh. If she took a little flesh wound like this so seriously, then it was a good thing she hadn't been hired yet when he was shot twice in the abdomen last year.

A moment later, Felicity pulled a wrapped butterfly bandage from the box and set it on the counter. She turned back to him and stepped closer, situating her body between his knees so that she was right in front of him. She gently reached for the bandage on his shoulder and began pulling it back. Oliver just studied her face instead of thinking about the slight sting as the sticky tape around the edges of the bandage pulled away from his skin or about the fact that she was so close to him that he could smell her perfume. Her bottom lip was still pulled between her teeth and her eyes were still narrowed and focused.

Felicity reached her free hand up and gently pulled his sleeve further up on his shoulder. The newly exposed skin on the top of his arm burned when her fingers grazed against it. Felicity frowned and looked at him.

"Oliver?"

"Yes?"

"Take off your shirt." She said it matter-of-factly, as if the statement was a command she was used to giving and held no underlying innuendos. Oliver's heart thumped against his chest a few times as images of her saying those words under different circumstances began to assault him. His shirt on the floor. Hers too. His mouth against her skin. Her breath ghosting over his flesh. His mouth ran dry as he stared at her, unable to look away or speak or stop seeing the images on loop. She must have realized pretty quickly how the demand sounded because she huffed and shook her head. "The bandage. I can't take it all the way off because your sleeve is in the way. The shirt has got to go."

Oliver's mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton, so he didn't speak. Instead, he reached for the edge of his shirt and started to pull it up over his head. He winced when he tried to lift his injured arm and could feel the wound in his shoulder protesting angrily. Felicity noticed and immediately grabbed the hem of the shirt and helped him lift it up over his head, careful to move the armhole slowly over his injured shoulder so he didn't have to move much. He tossed the shirt onto the nearby countertop, then turned back towards her.

She was staring at him now, but not at his face. She'd noticed the scars left by the pair of bullets he'd taken to the abdomen last year. She looked up at his face with wide eyes. "Oliver, did you get shot?" she breathed.

"I'm pretty sure that's why I'm shirtless right now," he answered, trying to joke with her. But his teasing felt off. There was too much tension in the room, and he couldn't muster enough humor to put behind his words. Her hand moved like she was going to touch the scars, but she stopped herself and looked up at him, her expression pained. "I wasn't kidding when I said I'd had worse this afternoon," he said quietly. "This?" He barely lifted his shoulder. "Is nothing."

Felicity nodded. "Did it… hurt?"

Oliver looked at her, noticing the urgency and pain behind the question, and a little confused by the horror in her eyes she was trying to hide. "Well it wasn't pleasant, but I guess it could have been worse."

Felicity sucked in a breath and averted her eyes from him. Her hand was trembling.

"Hey." He reached for her arm, his brows furrowed. "It was over a year ago. I'm fine. It doesn't hurt now."

Felicity met his gaze and nodded. She didn't say anything, and the darkness that had fallen in her eyes when she saw his scars was still there. Something was bothering her more than just the fact that he'd been shot last year. He didn't have to be a detective to figure that out. "Are you ok?" he questioned, using his hand on her forearm to draw her a little closer so that she was between his knees and right in front of him again.

"Yeah," she answered – her voice a little too high to be natural. "Just tired. Let's get your wound cleaned up so we can both get some much needed rest."

She stepped even closer to him and peeled the bandage away from the skin of his shoulder. She made quick work of wiping away the small trickle of blood and then poured some hydrogen peroxide onto a paper towel and dabbed it around the edges of the stitches. He winced slightly when some of the antiseptic seeped into the edges of the wound and burned against his already irritated flesh.

Felicity saw it and reached her free hand up to rest against the curve of his neck and chest on the opposite side of the injured shoulder to steady him. Her hand burned him too – but in a different way. It was warm and soft against his skin, and the movement had brought her impossibly closer to him. She was standing so close to him that the front of her jean-clad thighs were hitting against the inside sides of his, and he could feel her breath tickling against the skin of his shoulder and chest. If he leaned forward by about a foot, his lips could touch her skin.

The images that had attacked him earlier came back. What would happen if he pressed his lips against her neck? Would her lips part? Would her eyes close? What would happen if he wrapped his good arm around her back right now and brought her body right against his? Would she smile? Would he be able to feel the warmth of her body through the layers of clothes she was wearing? What would happen if he kissed her? Would her lips be as soft as her hands? Would she taste as good as she smelled?

Her hands smoothed the new butterfly bandage over his skin, then she added a large Band-Aid over the whole thing. "There. Good as new," she surmised. Oliver stared at her, wondering if her voice was a little more breathy than it usually was, or if that was all in his head. She didn't look at him as she set the first aid supplies back into the box beside them, but he watched her. He noticed the way the light dusting of freckles under the rims of her glasses and across the bridge of her nose looked even fainter in the lighting of his kitchen. He noticed how the industrial piercing in her ear sparkled every time she turned her head slightly. He noticed the way her eyelashes hit softly against her cheek every time she blinked.

He had always known she was beautiful, but Jesus Christ, looking at her now? This close? She was stunning. Riveting. Breathtaking.

He'd been kidding himself for months thinking he wasn't attached to her.

"Oliver?" Her soft voice pulled him from his trance. She was looking at him in confusion. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah," he rasped, shaking his head and trying to bring himself back to the present.

He could tell the moment a new thought crossed her mind because her face turned a shade pinker and she took a step back so that she was no longer standing between his knees. "Sorry I … I'll um … clean this stuff up … sorry if I … you can um, put your shirt back on I guess?"

Oliver regarded her carefully. "Why are you apologizing? I should be thanking you." He stood up and reached for his shirt. She stepped back again like a skittish kitten. Oliver narrowed his eyes in confusion.

"I just… what you said earlier … I'm not trying to cross any lines. You don't want to be friends or anything, I get that. I should probably just get some sleep now - "

"Felicity." He reached out and grabbed her arm as she was turning away from him. After everything today, he knew he couldn't go to sleep if the last thing he'd seen was that hurt expression on her face again. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier today."

"It's fine. You were being honest. I really appreciate your kindness in letting me -"

"I wasn't being honest." His words hung in the air like mist, floating around between them and invading every spare space it could find. She looked at him. "When I said we weren't friends, that wasn't… the last time I… I didn't want…" He paused and ran a hand over his face while she continued to watch him, her expression unreadable. He took a deep breath. "A few years ago I promised myself I wouldn't have friends at work anymore. It's easier that way, you know? But somehow I couldn't make the promise stick with you. You're…important to me and you are my friend and that scares the shit out of me because it was never supposed to happen."

A beat passed before she smiled a brilliant, blinding smile. The kind of smile that warms a room and draws every eye to it. The kind of smile that made his heart speed up against his rib cage and his lungs to feel like the air they were breathing in was somehow magically lighter.

Then she did something unexpected. She stepped forward into his space and leaned up on her toes to press her lips against his cheek. He stood frozen, the place where her warm lips grazed the side of his cheek the epicenter of a pleasant buzz that was erupting beneath his skin. She pulled back almost as quickly as she'd approached, her smile never fading.

"You're a good friend, Oliver. Whether you meant to be or not." She grabbed her purse from the counter and turned back to him. "Now I'm going to bed so I can have all my mental faculties ready to go tomorrow. We have a bird mutilator to catch. Do you have a spare bedroom or should I get a blanket for the couch?"

"There's a spare across from mine. I can loan you some clothes if you need them." His voice sounded strained to his own ears.

She smiled again. "Thank you. That would be great."

He led her down the hall and she waited outside his bedroom door as he rounded up a t-shirt and some old sweatpants that were buried in the closet because they were a little small on him. She took the clothes and thanked him again before disappearing behind the guest bedroom door. Oliver lay down in bed then himself, trying to ignore the fact that Felicity was sleeping across the hall in the guest bed he'd bought but no one had ever used. Trying to forget the way her lips felt against his skin. Trying not to think about how he wouldn't mind if her lips touched places other than his cheek.

He laid there for what felt like hours – his brain unable to shut off and vacillating constantly between pleasant images of Felicity's smile and her laugh and her lips and horrifying images of dead birds and bullets and blood.

Just as he was about to finally drift into sleep he heard something.

It was muffled, but it almost sounded like a whimper.

Oliver sat up in bed and listened intently, his heart starting to hammer against his rib cage.

He heard it again a little louder. A muffled cry.

It was coming from across the hall.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

 **1:38 AM, Hour 15**

Oliver had never jumped out of his bed so fast in his life. His training should have prompted him to grab the gun from the compartment in his nightstand, but he didn't have time for that. He had to get to Felicity. _Now_.

He threw open the door to his room and then did the same to the door across the hall. His heart beat wildly and adrenaline hummed through him like electricity. He took in the scene of the room, frantically looking for signs of danger. Felicity was lying in bed – still fast asleep – the blankets twisted up around her legs and arms as if she'd been moving in her sleep. The room was empty and dark. Nothing seemed out of place, and there were no signs of anyone else having been in here besides Felicity and now himself. Soft moonlight poured in through the window where the curtains were wide open. Felicity had once told him that she liked to sleep with the curtains open so she could wake up with the sun.

Oliver felt his pulsing heart begin to settle and he dragged a hand over his face. He must have been imagining things. His fears were getting the best of him.

He froze when Felicity shifted in the bed and clutched her pillow close to her face. Then he heard her cry. It was the same sound he'd heard from his room. Oliver stepped closer, unsure if she was awake or not because of the dark shadows that surrounded them. She whimpered again, her small fists clutching into the pillow. Oliver could see her eyes were squeezed shut and she was shivering.

Felicity was having a nightmare.

Something inside him broke seeing her small frame in distress while it was supposed to be resting peacefully. The need to wake her up – to end whatever horror she was seeing at that moment – overwhelmed him.

He approached the bed and crouched down so he was at eye level with her body.

She began to mumble in her sleep. "No. No. Please."

Oliver reached forward so that his hand rested lightly on her shoulder. "Felicity," he whispered.

"Don't. Please don't," Felicity continued to whimper, her legs twisting slightly and tangling the blankets so that they slipped down to her waist.

Oliver moved his hand to the side of her face that wasn't buried in the pillow, letting it rest gently against her clammy skin before smoothing some of her loose hair back out of her face. "Felicity, wake up," he urged. She continued to shiver for a few moments, the gentle caress of his hand not jarring her from whatever was torturing her. He moved his hand back to her shoulder and gently shook her. "Felicity."

Her body jerked up so she was propped on an elbow and her eyes popped open. Her breaths were coming out in pants and her sleep fogged eyes started darting around the room and filling with panic. "Hey, it's ok," Oliver said softly, reaching out to rest his hands against her cheeks again. "You're safe here. It was just a dream."

"Oliver?" Her voice sounded gravelly and broken, and her pain-filled eyes focused in on him.

"I'm here. You're ok." He rubbed his thumbs softly over the tops of her cheekbones. She reached her hand up and grabbed onto his wrist, her breathing still unsteady. Her lips trembled a little as she nodded. "Do you want some water?" he asked. She nodded again.

Oliver removed his hands from her face and made his way to the kitchen to fill up a glass of water. When he returned, Felicity was sitting up in the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest under the blanket, and was staring out the window. Oliver handed her the glass of water and she accepted it with what he thought was an attempt at a smile.

She drank a little bit of the water and then set the glass down on the nightstand. She looked up at him, her skin bathed in moonlight. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Are you ok?" She looked to be fully awake now, the terrors from her dream no longer haunting her. Oliver was thankful for that at least.

She gave him a weak smile. "Yeah I think so."

"You know you're safe here, right?" Oliver asked quietly, stepping forward so he could sit on the edge of the bed and look at her.

She connected her eyes to his. "I know I am."

Oliver let out a breath. No matter how close to home this case got for her, she had to know she was safe with him. He'd do anything to make sure she didn't get hurt. "We'll catch whoever is doing this, Felicity. I swear we will. You'll be safe and won't have to worry about them ever again."

"That's not –" She cut herself off and closed her eyes. She took a breath, then opened them again. "I know we will."

"Good," Oliver affirmed. "Then try to get some more sleep. We'll have a long day ahead of us and we're expected back at the station in about six hours."

Felicity was silent, but she must have heard him because she sank down onto her side in the bed and rested her head on the pillow – still facing where he was sitting. He stood up and took a step towards the door, suddenly pretty tired himself.

"Oliver?" Her whispered voice stopped him in his tracks and he turned to see her looking at him from where she lay. In the dim moonlight, it looked like she was biting her lip. "Would you…would you stay? For just a few more minutes?"

The vulnerability in her voice caused his heart to skip a beat. How could he _not_ do what she asked? "Yeah, of course," he whispered. He walked back over to the bed and sat down next to her but on top of the blankets, his back resting against the headboard. "You sure you're ok?"

She nodded, but even in the darkness, Oliver could tell there was something bothering her. Maybe it was the remnants of the dream. Maybe it was the case. Whatever it was, Oliver could tell she was shaken. And if she needed him to sit in here until she fell asleep, he'd do it in a heartbeat. There were worse things than sitting next to her in the quiet of the night. In fact, it almost felt more peaceful in here sitting on this bed than it did in his own room where the silence was sometimes too loud to be able to fall asleep. Maybe it was the faint sound of her breathing that was calming. Maybe it was the soft rustle of the blankets every time she shifted even a tiny bit. Maybe it was just the change in the air that happened when more than one person was sharing it. Whatever it was, Oliver liked it. He crossed his arms and leaned his head back with his eyes closed.

"Oliver?" came her soft voice again.

"Hmm?"

She spoke so quietly that he could barely hear her even though the room was silent. "I wasn't dreaming about the case."

Oliver opened his eyes then and looked down to where her head rested against the pillow next to him. She was staring at him, and the moonlight was hitting her eyelashes in a way that cast long shadows over her cheeks. He shifted so that he was lying next to her on his side, his head propped up on his elbow. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, his voice echoing in the silence of the dark room.

Felicity took a breath, never taking her eyes off his face. "You might have noticed I talk a lot," she whispered.

Oliver's lips twitched. "It hasn't escaped my attention."

"You might have also noticed that I don't talk a lot about my family."

Oliver swallowed and nodded, feeling a cold dread seeping through his stomach at her tone. Felicity closed her eyes and took a breath. When she opened them, she began talking. "Growing up, it was always just me and my mom. My dad wasn't in the picture. Because the rent was cheap, my mom and I lived in an area of downtown Las Vegas that they don't usually show the tourists." Felicity's eyes shifted to the side as if she was recalling a memory. "I liked it there. I knew people said it was a 'dangerous' part of town or whatever, but it never felt like that to me, you know?"

Oliver nodded. The cold feeling continued to seep through him. He could already tell that whatever happened next in her story was what had caused her nightmare.

Felicity took another breath, this time her breath stuttering a little. "When I was fifteen, my mom and I had just gotten back from the grocery store. I remember there were these two guys fighting across the street and I didn't know who they were, but it wasn't that uncommon for there to be people yelling or arguing outside in our neighborhood so I didn't pay much attention. My mom was digging around in the trunk and handed me a bag of groceries and we heard a few gun shots."

Felicity paused and squeezed her eyes shut, her lips trembling slightly. In the silence, Oliver could have sworn he could hear his own heart beating because it was thumping against his chest so loudly. What had happened to her? Had she been hit? Her mom?

Felicity opened her eyes again, a new steeliness appearing in them as she prepared to finish her story. "People have always complimented me for being smart, but I've never had half the reflexes of my mom. My memory of it all is a little fuzzy, but I remember it happening so fast. My mom was shoving me down and I dropped the bag of groceries. There were apples in the grocery bag, and they spilled out and started rolling under the car. I was trying to grab them all before they got stuck… I don't know what I was thinking. I just… the gunshots didn't even register. I wasn't scared or worried, I just wanted to round up the stupid apples and put them back in the bag."

Her face broke into a devastated grimace and Oliver felt himself stop breathing. He reached out without thinking to rest his palm against her forearm between them and began to rub it soothingly.

Her voice was hoarse when she spoke again. "My mom was shot in the back by a stray bullet. I didn't even notice that my own mom was hurt right away because I was too busy reaching under the car for an apple."

"Felicity," Oliver whispered, wishing to God he could say something to make it better. "You were a kid. You were -"

"I was old enough to have done something," she interrupted.

Oliver wasn't sure if he should ask, but he had to know. "And your mom?"

Felicity swallowed. "The bullet hit her spinal cord. She survived, but she'll never regain the use of anything below her shoulders. She'll never leave the care facility she's been in since then."

"Jesus," Oliver swore, his throat thick over the horror she experienced. "Felicity, what happened wasn't your fault."

Felicity nodded, her lip trembling again. "I know that," she rasped. She swallowed and took a breath before speaking again. "So anyway. That's what my dream was about. Believe it or not, I haven't had a nightmare about that day in years. I think maybe… things that happened today just stirred my mind up a little. Sorry."

And just like that, it all clicked. Her terrified expression when she saw he'd been shot this morning. Her insistence that he go to the hospital. Her multiple apologies over him being hurt after pulling her out of the way of the danger. Even her strange expression when she'd asked him if it had hurt to be shot. Looking at her now, so strong despite the tragedy she'd relived, Oliver felt the overwhelming need to pull her close - to wrap her up in his arms and keep her safe from the evil in the world. The evil he was all too familiar with and so, it seemed, was she.

When she bit her lip and looked away from him, he decided _fuck it_. He shifted so that he was lying on his back and raised his arm slightly. "Come here," he whispered, motioning for her to move towards him so he could wrap her into his side. He smiled tentatively, then scooted forward under the covers until her hands laid against his side and his t-shirt clad chest. Oliver let her use his bicep as a pillow – his hand resting easily against the top of her back. "You don't have to apologize," he said as she pressed her face into his uninjured shoulder.

"Thank you," she mumbled. Her warm breath soaked through his t-shirt and tingled against his skin. Her soft hair cascaded over his arm. Even with the blankets and layers of clothes between them, he could feel the pressure of her body snuggled up against the side of his. A ghost of a smile danced across his own lips. He'd be fucked if Diggle saw him right now.

Maybe he was fucked either way.

"That's why I wanted to go into law enforcement, you know," Felicity added quietly. "Because of my mom."

Oliver nodded. "I never knew."

He felt her shrug. "I don't talk about it a lot."

Oliver leaned his face to the side and pressed his lips against the top of her head. He wasn't sure why other than it felt right and he wanted to. "You can talk to me about it whenever you want." He felt her relax into his side even more.

"Thank you," she whispered. They laid in comfortable silence for a few moments, Oliver content knowing she was safe next to him and relieved knowing she seemed relaxed after her nightmare. Felicity spoke up just as he started to feel the exhaustion creeping into his eyelids again. "Oliver? Can I ask how you got shot? In your stomach, I mean." Oliver stiffened, and she must have felt it because she backtracked immediately. "You don't have to tell me. It's none of my business. I really need to stop overstepping."

She used her hand on his chest to begin to push herself back from him, but he tightened his arm around her back to secure her in place. "No, I'll tell you." She stilled under his arm and he could feel her eyes on him as she waited. "I was being reckless. There was a case that was personal to me and it made me cut a few corners in my attempt to catch the suspect."

"Corners like wearing your vest?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah."

There was silence for a moment. Oliver felt the truth of the whole story bubbling up in his mind and banging against the metal doors he'd locked it behind. Begging to be set free. Pleading to be spoken about. Straining to be shared with her the way she'd shared her painful memory with him.

He'd never told this story to anyone who didn't already know it. He'd never wanted to.

So why was lying next to her in the dark acting like magnet for the words that were stuck in his throat? Why was he feeling the urge to speak – the desire to tell her everything – more powerful with each silent second that passed?

Maybe if he told her, he could put some of his nightmares behind him too.

"I've never told you about the rookie I was training a few years ago." He heard his strained voice before he had even decided to speak.

She shifted slightly so she was resting her face more against his good shoulder than his bicep and she could look at him. "No you haven't," she confirmed in a whisper.

Oliver stared at the ceiling as he recalled everything – every painful memory – and let the words start spilling out. "His name was Roy Harper. He was a good kid. Eager to do a good job, and pretty good at it."

Felicity stiffened slightly and sucked in a breath. Her voice was small when she spoke. "I've seen his name on the wall."

Oliver nodded, his throat growing thick. "I had actually met him before I was assigned as his training officer. He was dating my sister. He was pretty close to all of us – almost a family member. It was the day before his graduation from rookie status and my sister wanted to throw him a surprise party that night. She said she didn't need my help, but I loved that kid like he was my own brother, so I wanted to help. I took that day off."

Oliver felt Felicity's warm fingers start to trail up and down his forearm that was lying across his stomach. It was soothing and helped distract him from the horror he was confessing.

"It was his last day as a rookie and I wasn't there. He and the training officer that replaced me for the day were gunned down at a routine traffic stop."

"Oliver," Felicity gasped. Her hand moved from his forearm and laid across his chest, anchoring him to her.

"If I had been there instead of putting personal feelings before my job, maybe Roy would still be alive and my mom and Thea - "

Felicity grabbed his chin and forced his face towards her. "Don't," she commanded sternly. "What happened was _not_ your fault any more than what happened to my mom was mine."

The way she said it, with a fire behind her words, almost convinced him to believe it. But even his own sister had blamed him. She'd moved all the way across the country to get away from him and this city, and his mother had followed her. So as much as Felicity's assertion warmed him, he knew he could never escape the culpability he held in Roy's death.

She seemed to read the residual guilt on his face because she sat up and looked down at him. "That's why you don't want friends at work," she gasped.

He swallowed and clenched his jaw.

"Oh Oliver," she whispered, her face twisting in pain. Then she laid back down against him so that her front was smashed into his side and her arm looped around his neck so that he could bury her face in his good shoulder. "I'm so sorry," she mumbled against his shirt.

He curved his arm around her back and locked her against him.

"I know what it's like to blame yourself. But you can't," she whispered. He didn't answer. Instead he pulled his arm tighter around her and she buried her nose deeper into his shoulder. Something inside him shook at her words. "What happened was not your fault," she repeated. He could feel something warm take root in the center of his chest as her words settled over him like a balm. He wondered if every time she said it, he'd come closer to believing it.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice gravelly as he leaned over and kissed the top of her head on impulse for the second time that night.

"Oliver?" she mumbled, pulling her face from his shoulder so she could look at him. "Were you chasing Roy's killer when you got shot?"

Oliver nodded, transfixed by the serious look on her face which was so close to his.

"That's why you were in a hurry and why you went after him without a vest?"

"I wasn't thinking clearly," Oliver replied. Memories of how desperate and angry he'd felt when Roy's killer surfaced started to creep up into his consciousness.

Felicity bit her bottom lip. "Oliver, promise me you won't ever do that again."

"I always wear a vest now," Oliver dismissed.

"I'm serious," she asserted, sitting up slightly to look at him again. "Promise me. No matter what happens or who you're going after, you'll wear your vest in the field."

The way she was looking at him took his breath away for a moment. Her eyes were focused, and her mouth was pressed together firmly. In the moonlight, her skin looked pale and her shoulders were rigid. She looked like her life depended on him promising to protect his own life by wearing a bulletproof vest.

"I promise," he said quietly.

"No matter what?" she pressed. "Even if Laurel's killer is across the street and could disappear any second?"

"Yes."

"Even if the person who shot at us from the SUV is about to slip through your fingers?"

Oliver felt irritation starting to grow in the pit of his stomach. Surely he'd never be in that position… "Yes, I promise."

"Even if the killer gets to me and I might not make it if you stop to put on your vest?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Stop," he ground out. "That won't happen."

"Promise me," she demanded.

"That if the choice is between saving your life and putting on a vest, I'll put on a vest?" he questioned. Fuck that. He wasn't making a promise like that.

"Oliver." She rested her hand on his chest, her face becoming vulnerable. "I don't have many friends here. I just wanted to make sure the ones I do have take precautions to protect themselves. I can't see someone… important to me get hurt like that again."

Oliver felt his throat burning at her admission. He felt the same way in regards to her. If he found out she'd run into danger without a vest just to help him, he'd lose his mind. Maybe her request wasn't as unreasonable as it sounded. He struggled to force his words out. "I promise that I'll put a vest on any time I'm in the field."

A ghost of a smile appeared on her face and she laid back down next to him, snuggling into his side. "Thank you."

He let his hand rub slowly across the top of her back as they laid in comfortable silence. Even though she was under the blankets while he laid on top of them, he could feel the warmth from the closeness of her body seeping through into his. The slight rise and fall of her chest as she breathed synchronized with his own in a way that gave him more peace than he could understand.

After a few minutes, he could feel Felicity's breathing slow and he knew she'd fallen asleep. He hadn't intended to stay in her room all night, but he wasn't going to wake her up so he could leave either. He'd have to stay the night in here next to her, and he couldn't deny that there was something inside him that sparked happily when he decided that. Lying here with her snuggled next to him made him feel more comfortable – more at peace – than he'd felt in years.

Selfishly, he was happy to not have to give that feeling up.

He leaned over and let his face lean gently against her forehead – the scent of her shampoo and the warmth of her breath against his neck calming him. He closed his eyes and let himself imagine that this was his reality. That he'd fall asleep like this all the time.

He knew he wouldn't. That after this case ended things would go back to normal.

But for tonight, he let himself pull her close and revel in her presence.

And he fell asleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

 **7:12 AM; Hour 21**

It was bright. Unusually bright. Oliver pulled an arm up over his eyes to try to block the light, but it didn't help. He groaned and blinked his eyes open to see the source of the offending brightness: open curtains. The damn curtains in his guestroom had been pulled open and the damn rising sun was shining straight through the East-facing window. He snapped his eyes shut again to block the unpleasant sight out.

His guestroom?

Oliver's groggy mind finally started to catch up as last night came back to him. Felicity's nightmare. Telling her about Roy. Falling asleep next to her.

Felicity.

Oliver opened his eyes again and stretched out his arm. She wasn't in the bed. In fact, she wasn't in the room.

He pulled himself off the bed, scratching his head. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept so deeply that his body didn't automatically wake him up at his usual 6:00 AM in time for his morning workout. He also couldn't believe he'd been so sound asleep that he hadn't woken up when Felicity got out of bed.

He was usually a light sleeper.

He padded across the hardwood floor and opened the door, stepping into the hallway. He could hear a rustling coming from the kitchen and assumed that's where he'd find Felicity. He ran a hand over his face, and walked towards the living area. He probably needed to talk to Felicity about last night and make sure things didn't become awkward between them after having shared such intimate memories with one another. He wanted to make sure she knew that she could talk to him in the light of day too.

As he approached, he heard the voices of familiar news anchors echoing faintly as if being played off her tablet coupled with a light clatter of cabinet doors opening as she – presumably – looked for something.

He almost choked when he rounded the corner and saw her.

She was wearing the t-shirt he had loaned her from last night and was standing on her toes trying to reach the mugs he had placed on the top shelf since he didn't use them often. Her back was to him, and her golden hair fell around her shoulders in loose waves.

She was wearing his t-shirt, but she wasn't wearing his sweatpants.

Despite his best efforts to be a decent person, his eyes roamed over her figure without his consent. The t-shirt hung loosely around her neck and shoulders. It flowed down her back and curved around her ass in a way that had his jaw loosening. The hem of the shirt stopped just at the top of her thighs – hiding anything indecent but leaving him a view of her legs that had his pants tightening as he imagined turning her around, lifting her onto the countertop, and having those perfect legs wrap around him.

Because the sight wasn't torture enough, she stretched her arm up further and the t-shirt rose slightly. It was enough to stop his breathing because it was so close to revealing the underside of her ass.

He must have made a noise because she jumped and turned around, her hand flying to her heart. "Oliver!" she gasped. "You scared me!"

Oliver could barely speak. The t-shirt, which was obviously too large to fit her like a normal t-shirt, hung loosely around her neck and almost slid off her shoulder – revealing a patch of creamy skin that he was sure would taste delicious if he could get his tongue on it. The hem of the t-shirt in the front wasn't helping him either since it fell on the top of her thighs and left her legs bare before him. Her socks were the only other article of clothing barring some of her skin from his eyes.

"I was just going to make some coffee…," she started, her brows furrowing. "Are you ok? You look weird."

Of course he looked fucking weird. She was standing in his kitchen wearing his clothes and looking like Aphrodite herself.

Oliver tried to keep his voice from cracking as he spoke. "You're not…wearing pants."

Felicity's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open into an "o" as she looked down at her exposed legs. "I…your pants were too big so I didn't sleep in them." Her face was reddening as she spoke. "I'm sorry! I totally forgot… I don't always wear pants when I sleep at home so I didn't even notice-"

Oliver felt his brain short-circuiting as she slapped a hand over her mouth. While he slept next to her last night – separated by only a few blankets – she _hadn't been wearing pants_? He'd been that close to her while she wore just her underwear and he'd had no idea? Was she trying to kill him?

"Not that I _don't_ sleep in pants!" she tried to correct herself. "Of _course_ I wear pants to bed, I just mean sometimes when it's hot in the summer or something I just…don't wear them. Oh my God, I'm stopping now."

"Please do," Oliver gritted out.

She gave him a bashful smile and ducked her head. "Sorry. I'll just go change now…"

"I'm going to take a quick shower," he told her, his voice sounding strained even to his own ears. "Forget the coffee. We'll get some on the way in. Can you be ready to leave in 15 minutes?"

Felicity nodded, biting her lip. Oliver just turned and made a beeline for his own bedroom. He needed a quick shower. A quick _cold_ shower. And he needed to cleanse the image of her wearing his clothes out of his mind. He'd only just admitted to himself he was attached to her and allowed her a place as his friend. And he couldn't very well keep her in the friend category in his mind if every time he saw her he imagined her looking like _that._

Damn it. He was so fucked.

* * *

A little over an hour later, Oliver and Felicity arrived at the station. On the way, Oliver had called Chief Michaels to get an update on the investigation. When he'd heard that Felicity's apartment had been cleared and that there were no toxic or explosive threats there, he had turned around to take her there first for a change of clothes. He'd done his own sweep while she changed, then they'd headed towards the precinct – stopping only for coffee, as promised.

Oliver still hadn't found the right moment to bring up the night before. Every time he'd been about to mention it, something had come up: the barista handing them their coffees, Felicity getting a text update on the case from Digg, Felicity starting to hum to the tune of a song she liked when it came on the radio.

As they walked in, the energy in the station was markedly different from yesterday morning. When Oliver had arrived the morning before, it had been a normal day. People were upbeat, there were doughnuts in the breakroom, and the usual energetic buzz of laughter and conversation could be heard from all corners.

But since then, they'd lost two officers and the Assistant District Attorney. One of their own had been targeted at her own home, and they still didn't have any concrete evidence to link Damien Darhk to the crimes.

The mood today was somber.

As Oliver and Felicity made their way to the conference room for the morning update, it became obvious that word had spread about the threat left on Felicity's doorstep. Everyone they passed grew silent. Some gave her encouraging smiles or patted her back as she passed. Oliver wanted to throttle the few who looked at her sadly, as if her picture was already being printed off in preparation for hanging it on that damn wall.

"Felicity!"

Ray Palmer ran up behind them, calling for their attention. Felicity paused and turned around. Oliver followed suit.

"I heard about the threat at your house!" Palmer said loudly as he stopped just in front of them. "Are you alright?"

Oliver narrowed his eyes when Palmer put his hand on Felicity's arm.

Felicity smiled at him. "Thanks, Ray. But I'm fine. Really."

Palmer sighed and stepped closer to Felicity. Oliver felt his fingers twitch and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Well clearly you can't stay there until we catch the culprit," Ray asserted, puffing his chest out in a way that Oliver, frankly, thought looked ridiculous. "I'd be honored to let you stay with me until the whole thing is resolved. I only have one bedroom, but I would happily sleep on the couch. Unless you'd be ok with sharing a bed with me?"

Oliver didn't realize how tightly he was clenching his jaw until he felt a pain in his back teeth. Jesus, this guy was annoying. He was practically all over her and Oliver was standing _right here_. What a fucking douche. Felicity would _not_ be staying with him. For all he knew, Ray was the rat and was feeding information to Darhk. The thought should have unsettled him, but instead made him feel a little better. Now he just needed to prove Ray was the mole so he'd have a real reason to knock him out.

Oliver took a sip of his coffee, a smug smile forming on his lips as he imagined how Ray was probably going to cry like a baby when Oliver took him down.

"Wow Ray, that's really sweet!" Felicity cooed.

Oliver coughed and turned to look at Felicity incredulously. What the _fuck?!_ She was ready to stay at a Holiday Inn last night rather than stay with him! She'd thrown a verbal fit when he'd expressed concern over her safety yesterday! Now Palmer did the same thing and she acted like she was flattered? Oliver hated that guy.

Ray smiled proudly. "Maybe we could even get that coffee you're always too busy for!" He laughed, and Oliver clenched his fists at his sides.

Felicity smiled. "I really appreciate the offer, Ray, but I'm sure we'll find whoever did it today, so there's really no need."

"Well just in case…" Ray began, taking out his phone. "I'll text you my address. You can stop by anytime."

Oliver felt the need to jump in. "Felicity already has a place to stay until we catch the person threatening her," he said through clenched teeth. "With me."

Ray and Felicity both turned to look at him with matching curious expressions.

"With you?" Ray asked skeptically.

"That's right."

"Oliver was with me last night when we found the bird," Felicity explained, turning to wave to Cooper as he walked past. Oliver didn't acknowledge him. "He was nice enough to let me stay in his guest room since it was so late."

Her face colored slightly as she said the last part – probably because she was remembering that she hadn't spent the night alone in the guest room.

Ray eyed Oliver, who just raised his eyebrows. "Huh. Who knew Officer Ornery had a heart somewhere in there?" he joked.

"Excuse me?"

Felicity's loud fake laughter as she stepped between them drew his attention. "Oliver, we really should be getting into the conference room for the update. Talk to you later, Ray!"

Felicity looped her arm through his and started walking down the hallway away from Ray.

"Felicity, do people call me 'Officer Ornery'?" Oliver seethed, trying to decide how long he would be suspended if he turned around and punched Ray in the face.

"Well, I don't," she shrugged.

"I'm not ornery," he retorted.

"I know."

"I get the job done. Just because I don't hit on my coworkers every time I get the chance like Ray does doesn't mean I'm ornery," he ground out.

"Or course not," she confirmed. Felicity patted his arm and let it go as they entered the conference room and made their way to the front where Diggle was saving them seats.

Oliver sat down next to Digg, and Felicity sat next to him. Oliver looked at his partner. "Did you know the assholes around here are calling me 'Officer Ornery'?"

Diggle smirked. "Of course. I came up with it."

Felicity stifled a laugh and covered her mouth with her hand. "It's not funny," Oliver barked. "I'm not ornery."

"Ok," Digg scoffed with a smile. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. Oliver did the same, only his face held more of a scowl than a smile. The people around here – especially Diggle apparently – needed to spend more time minding their own business and doing their jobs.

"Oliver, people only say that because you don't let them see you the way Digg and I see you," Felicity said.

"Yes I do."

Felicity raised her eyebrows and just shook her head with a small smile. She stared right at him, as if daring him to contradict her.

"Speaking of double standards, how come you didn't tell Palmer to go to Hell when he was pretending to be heroic? I'm pretty sure I remember you fighting me tooth and nail all day yesterday when I showed any hint of concern for your well-being," Oliver challenged.

"I was being nice," she answered. "Besides, you still got your way in the end."

"So you try to be nice to Palmer, but not to me?" he responded, his irritation from before diffusing into amusement as he teased her.

"Ray isn't ornery," she said sweetly.

Oliver watched her face – she was cute when she was being mischievous. He liked it. "I'm pretty sure letting you stay at my place last night wasn't ornery."

Diggle started coughing next to them.

"No it wasn't. It was very kind," Felicity confirmed, her eyes dancing. "Your spare bed is very comfortable."

"And to think I'd never slept in it until last night. I almost missed out on the comfort my home has to offer," Oliver answered, loving the way her cheeks turned slightly pink and her lips twitched.

"Hold on!" Diggle interjected. "Did you just say Felicity stayed with you last night and you two…slept in the same bed?"

The spell was broken and Oliver and Felicity broke the eye contact they'd been holding. Oliver glanced at Diggle, who looked like the cat who'd eaten a canary, and then back at Felicity, who looked genuinely flustered now with her pink cheeks and wide eyes.

"It's not what it sounds like," Oliver grumbled, frowning at his partner.

"Hmmm," Diggle mused, taking a sip of his own coffee, his eyes filled with mirth.

"Oliver's telling the truth," Felicity spoke up. "It was totally platonic and by accident. We were fully clothed, I swear! Well actually, technically I wasn't wearing pants -"

"Felicity," Oliver growled.

Her mouth snapped shut and she stared at them both in horror. "That, also, was not what it sounded like."

"Uh huh," Diggle nodded, his tone making it obvious that he didn't believe them.

"Alright everyone, quiet down," Chief Michaels called as she stepped up to the podium in the front of the room. Felicity turned to look to the front, an obvious attempt to avoid looking at Oliver and Digg. Diggle kept staring at Oliver with a smirk on his face. Oliver rolled his eyes. "So we have a few updates on the ADA Lance case that we believe is connected to the deaths of our own officers Yamashiro and Ramirez," she continued.

The room quieted as the last few stragglers took their seats. Chief Michaels turned on the projector to show some of the evidence the team had acquired yesterday. Oliver was grateful that she wasn't showing the whole wall of clues since he still had a hunch someone in here was leaking information.

"As some of you might know, in addition to these deaths, one of our tech analysts had a threat left at her home last night. The three deaths can loosely be connected to a Mr. Damien Darhk, and we have reason to believe the threat is tied to him as well. Our goal today is to find something concrete that links him to the murders and to the threat left on Officer Smoak's doorstep last night." Oliver noticed Felicity shifting uneasily in her seat as all eyes in the conference room turned to her.

Chief Michaels used a laser pointer to indicate pieces of evidence as she spoke. "We were able to get some more visitation records from Iron Heights last night. I've already assigned a few of you to start going through it and cross referencing names. The investigation team will focus on Mr. Darhk as our lead, but we need the rest of you to follow other threads in case it turns out the connection is coincidental. We need information on who abducted and physically murdered the victims. Talk to your CIs. Canvass the neighborhoods of the three victims. Let's get some more solid leads."

Oliver heard some murmurs of agreement from behind him. He was happy the department was going to devote all their time to this case again today. As a seasoned detective, he knew that if there weren't any substantial leads within the first 48 hours, the chances of catching this son of a bitch would drastically decrease.

"That brings us to the next order of business," Chief Michaels said, shuffling some papers on her podium. "As you all know, the annual police banquet is tonight."

Instead of murmurs of agreement, this time her statement was met with a few groans. One officer spoke up. "Is that still on, Chief?"

Chief Michaels nodded seriously, and a few more officers began grumbling. "Look, I know the timing is terrible. I know we'd all rather be working this evening on this case. But this banquet is the one time a year this department has a chance to put on a good show for the suits at the capital. This is the one day we're guaranteed a chance to make our voices heard, and it's the one day a year they dedicate to recognizing us. Cancelling is not an option."

Felicity raised her hand and Chief Michaels nodded towards her. "Can I make a request to stay behind to work with the skeleton crew through the night instead of attending the banquet?"

Chief Michaels frowned. "The skeleton crew has already been approved and our RSVPs were sent to the state weeks ago. You're going."

Oliver saw Felicity pout slightly. He was dreading the banquet as much as she clearly was – especially with this case going on – but he also couldn't deny the slight weight that was lifted from him when Chief Michaels told her she had to be there. The thought of being separated from her all evening while there was a killer on the loose looking for her made his skin crawl.

The meeting ended after a few more minutes of questions and updates on other lesser investigations that were going on.

As most of the officers filed out, Chief Michaels motioned for Oliver, Felicity, and Diggle to follow her into the smaller conference room where they'd set up camp for their evidence the day before. The chief closed the door when they were all inside.

"I know there's some suspicion that we might have someone leaking information out of the department, so I didn't reveal everything we know. Our specific strategies going forward will stay between us four."

Felicity shifted next to Oliver, and he felt himself growing tense at the reminder that even here in the police precinct, Felicity might not be safe.

"Good idea," Digg spoke up, crossing his arms. "I'm guessing Oliver and I can start where we left off today and bring Darhk's wife in for questioning?"

Chief Michaels nodded. "I've had a tail on her all night. She's still at her house. I need you two to bring her in and question her. We need something solid that might tie her or Darhk to the murders, or we really will have to go back to the drawing board and look for some other leads."

"That's bullshit," Oliver ground out. "It was him. The birds, who he's targeting, it can't all be a coincidence."

Chief Michaels' eyes flashed. "I'm aware. But you _know_ all of that is just suspicion and circumstantial in court until we get something concrete that links it all."

"While Oliver and Digg are trying to get some information from Mrs. Darhk, what do you want me to do?" Felicity spoke up.

"I need you to stay here," Chief Michaels responded, giving Oliver a pointed look when he started to protest. "Yesterday we spent most of our time trying to find whoever purchased the explosive supplies, but there's too much ambiguity there with the planted receipt. For all we know, the flash drive was planted as well to keep us on a wild goose chase. I'm going to have Cooper keep on that today, but I want you to shift focus."

Felicity nodded. Oliver liked the idea of her not having to work closely with Seldon all day.

"I want you searching traffic camera footage from yesterday so we can try to locate the SUV that shot at you," Chief Michaels instructed. "If we can find out who they are, we might have our solid link to Darhk."

Felicity nodded. "Got it. I'll find them."

"We really need a win on this one," Chief Michaels surmised, looking at them solemnly. "And I'd like to be able to give Detective Lance some good news if he does show up tonight."

Diggle moved forward and set his hand on Chief Michaels's shoulder. "We'll get something today, Lyla." Digg turned back to Oliver. "You ready, man? No time to waste."

Oliver nodded and turned to Felicity while Diggle and Chief Michaels left the room. She looked at him curiously, and he felt his stomach knot up. This would be the first time he was away from her after finding out beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was in the killer's crosshairs. It made him feel like he was swallowing acid. "You'll call me if you need anything?"

She sighed, but the corners of her lips turned up. "I'll be fine here, Oliver. Even if there's a mole, I'm still at the police station. No safer place to be." Oliver huffed. She put her hand on his arm. "I'll call you if I need anything."

She squeezed his arm gently, then left the conference room and headed towards her workstation. Oliver watched her go, a strange, dark feeling creeping through him. Yesterday at this time, he wouldn't have thought twice about going somewhere without her. Now it felt like not only would he be going to pick up Ruvé Darhk without an important member of the team, but that he was purposely leaving her unprotected.

He knew he was being paranoid and overbearing. But maybe if he'd been paranoid and overbearing years ago, Roy would still be alive. He'd be damned if he let something happen to someone else he cared about because he wasn't with them when he should have been.

Oliver raked a hand over his face. There was nothing he could do about it right now though. The chief had given him an instruction. He'd go with Digg to pick up Darhk's wife, and he'd make sure they finished as quickly as possible so they could get back here without wasting time. They'd question her here, and that way Oliver would be close in case something happened.

The thought of being back quickly soothed him slightly. He left the conference room and ignored Diggle's smirk as he passed him and made his way to the waiting patrol car that would – hopefully – be bringing Ruvé Darhk into custody in a matter of minutes.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

 **10:03 AM; Hour 24**

The silence in the car was grating on Oliver's nerves. He and Diggle had left the station five minutes ago, heading to Ruve Darhk's house to ask her to come in for questioning again, and Diggle hadn't said a word since sitting down in the passenger seat. Even though he hadn't spoken, Oliver could feel his partner's smugness practically vibrating from him as he sipped his coffee.

When Oliver rolled to a stop at a stoplight, he finally had had enough. He glanced to his side. "What?"

Diggle raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean, 'what'?"

Oliver clenched his jaw. "If you have something to say, say it."

Diggle chuckled. "So you and Felicity…?"

Oliver shook his head. "It's not like that."

"I never said it was 'like' anything."

"Stop."

Diggle laughed and threw up his hands. "I'm not judging, man. I think it's about time actually."

"Digg, we got to her house, there was a dead bird on her doorstep, so I brought her back to my place. I wasn't going to let her stay at some hotel like she wanted," Oliver huffed defensively.

"Then why did you sleep in the same bed?" Diggle challenged with a smirk.

Oliver groaned. "She had a nightmare during the night, so I stayed in the room with her until morning. That's it." Oliver purposely left out the part where he had confided his darkest insecurities to Felicity and how she had made him feel like maybe his weakness wasn't that bad after all. He didn't mention the part where Felicity had cuddled into his side and Oliver had thought that if he could sleep like that every night for the rest of his life, he'd be happy. He also didn't mention the part about having to take a cold shower this morning after seeing Felicity wearing his t-shirt. There were some things Digg absolutely did not need to know.

Diggle hummed and nodded. "Well, for the record, I don't know what's holding you back. She's cute, smart, funny, and you clearly care about her."

Oliver sighed. "Are we really going to have this discussion _again_?"

"We'll keep having this discussion until you hear it, Oliver," Diggle retorted, suddenly no longer teasing. "You've been stuck since Roy died. I know that messed you up. It messed all of us up. But it's been two years. You can't let that rule your life now. Caring about people isn't going to prevent you from doing your job."

Oliver was silent. He stared straight ahead, guiding the car down the street towards the subdivision where Ruvé Darhk lived.

"I do care about her," Oliver confessed quietly. He waited for Digg's inevitable ribbing, but it didn't come.

"I know you do," Digg responded, sympathy in his voice. "I do too."

Oliver took a breath, the words for what he'd been feeling since late last night suddenly flooding out. "When I saw that damn bird in front of her door… I haven't been that scared in a long time."

Diggle was quiet, but Oliver could feel the man's eyes on him.

"I know it's too late. I can't stop caring about her. Like you said, she's incredible. How could anyone _not_ love her? But now that I'm here, I don't know what to do. Like today, leaving her behind _knowing_ she's in danger made it feel like I was tearing a fucking limb off. How am I supposed to do my job when I can't stop thinking about her and wanting to make sure she's ok? And what am I supposed to do if something happens to her? Digg, I can't lose -"

Diggle cut him off by placing a hand on his shoulder. "Nothing is going to happen to her."

Oliver tried to let Diggle's assertion calm him, but it felt like empty words. Diggle couldn't make a promise like that. "You can't know that."

Diggle shook his head. "I _can_ because I know you. And I see the way you look at that girl. You'd sooner die than let anything happen to her."

Oliver ground his teeth together. "Well I can't do anything to protect her when I'm out here on the streets and she's back at the precinct with a damn mole."

Diggle smiled. "Then I guess it's a good thing she's smarter than both of us combined and can take care of herself."

Oliver couldn't argue with that, and he was pretty sure Felicity would have said almost the same thing if she were here right now. The truth was, after knowing Felicity and working with her for months, Oliver _did_ know she was capable. She was by far the most intelligent person in the entire department, and she was a damn good officer. If she were anyone else, he wouldn't even think twice about trusting her to take care of herself.

But she wasn't someone else. She was Felicity. The woman who had rambled about coffee shops in bad neighborhoods when he'd first met her. The woman who had been kind to him and gone out of her way to make him smile day after day even when though he was a cold-hearted asshole who most people in the department avoided. The woman who challenged him and encouraged him and made him think about _life_ outside of work. The woman who had shared her darkest memory with him and made him feel safe enough to share his too. The woman who, just yesterday, had built him a tiny snowman to make up for the fact that he'd never made one himself.

Felicity wasn't just anyone. So, accordingly, Oliver couldn't get himself to think of her as any other officer.

Oliver glanced over at Diggle and saw the man was smirking again.

"Now what?" Oliver questioned, unable to keep the slight groan from his voice.

"You know you just said you loved her, right?" Diggle replied smugly.

"No I didn't. When?"

"You did," Digg laughed. "You said, 'how could anyone not love her.'"

"Shut up. You know what I meant," Oliver huffed, pulling into Ruvé Darhk's driveway and putting the car into park.

"Yeah, I think I do."

Oliver shut the car door and made his way up the sidewalk, Digg right behind him. When he reached the front porch, Oliver rang the doorbell and waited.

Moments later, Ruvé Darhk answered, looking annoyed to see them again. Her dark hair was pulled back tightly and she wore a scowl. "You again?"

"Yes ma'am. We were hoping you'd be in a better frame of mind to answer some questions today," Digg said smoothly.

Ruvé huffed. "Do I have a choice?"

"Technically? Yes," Oliver stated. "But when we come back with a warrant, you won't."

Ruvé nodded, her face stony. "Fine. But I'm calling my lawyer on the way."

She shoved past them and Oliver and Diggle looked at each other with raised eyebrows. This woman was night and day different from the crying mess they'd brought in for questioning last night. Only about 14 hours ago the women had been so shaken by being brought into the station that she hadn't been able to answer any questions without dissolving into tears.

Oliver had been suspicious that it was an act last night, and now he was certain of it. This woman had manipulated her way into having a few hours alone to get her story straight before having to answer questions, which made Oliver all the more certain she had something to hide.

A little while later, they arrived back at the station and Ruvé was escorted into an interview room. Oliver stopped by Felicity's cubicle to check in on her progress while he and Diggle awaited the arrival of Mrs. Darhk's lawyer.

"I've been scouring these traffic cameras for almost an hour," she said in a low voice as Oliver leaned over her shoulder to see what she was looking at. "And I haven't found anything."

"Well, keep at it. I know you'll – "

"Oliver," she interrupted, her voice low. "You don't understand. I haven't found _anything_. The street we were on lets out at a traffic light with a camera, but it was down for scheduled maintenance the entire day yesterday."

Oliver's jaw flexed. "Let me guess. That's not normal?"

Felicity shook her head. "There were no other cameras in the area down, and when I called the company the city contracts to do repairs on traffic cameras, they said they weren't doing any maintenance on that street."

"So where does that leave us? Who could have given the order to turn the camera off that day?"

Felicity looked resigned. "I think this gives us more proof of someone on the inside pulling strings."

Oliver ran a hand over his face. So someone had known where the crime scene would be and had strategically planned for the nearest traffic camera to be off that day. "Did you call the city to see who ordered the camera shut off?"

Felicity nodded. "Waiting for them to call me back. You know how they are."

Oliver huffed. Yes he did. The Department of Transportation was notorious for running slowly and being difficult to get ahold of. "Ok, well let me know when they call back."

Felicity nodded again and began tapping on her keyboard. "Will do. Without that camera, there's no way to track if they went left or right, which would lead to two different interstates and that means there are infinite possibilities to check. It's like searching for a FIFO memory chip in a sea of SRAM chips."

Oliver had no idea what she was talking about, but he assumed that meant it was difficult. "Well if anyone can do it, it's you," he said absently, watching her work.

She paused and looked at him with a genuine smile. His breath always stopped for a second when she did that. Maybe now was the moment to bring up last night.

"Oliver, we're ready," Diggle interrupted.

Oliver gave Felicity's shoulder an encouraging squeeze. "If you hit a wall, watch our interview with Mrs. Darhk. We could use another pair of eyes watching from behind the scenes."

"We'll see," she responded lightly. "Hopefully I'll catch something on here soon."

Oliver nodded and then followed Diggle down the hallway towards the interrogation room that held Mrs. Darhk and her lawyer. The two men entered and sat down across the table from Ruvé and a large man with dark hair who wore a scowl almost identical to the woman's.

Diggle set the case file down on the table, closed, and leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed. This was the routine they usually did in the interviews. Oliver played the calm, rational detective while Diggle got a kick out of playing "bad cop."

"Mrs. Darhk, I'm sure you've heard that ADA Laurel Lance was found murdered yesterday morning," Oliver began. Ruvé's face didn't change as she watched him. "Did you know Ms. Lance?"

"Barely," Ruvé responded curtly.

"How?" Oliver pressed.

"She prosecuted a case against my husband. But I'm sure you already knew that."

"We did," Oliver nodded.

"So I take it you have no real leads since you dragged me in here. The only contact I ever had with the woman was at the trial, so you must really be scraping the bottom of the barrel for people to question," Ruvé said, a biting edge to her voice.

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Not quite." He pushed the folder in front of Mrs. Darhk and motioned for her to open it. She did, and was met with the photos of Officers Ramirez and Yamashiro. "Do you recognize these officers?"

"No."

Oliver glared at her. "Well unfortunately, these two officers were murdered yesterday, and their deaths are what link your husband to these crimes."

"I don't understand how," Mrs. Darhk sniffed, her eyes cold.

"These two men were the officers who arrested your husband."

Ruvé pursed her lips. "I still don't see what this has to do with me."

"Mrs. Darhk, when was the last time you talked to your husband?" Diggle interrupted gruffly. Of course, Oliver and Diggle already knew the answer to that. According to prison logs, Ruvé visited her husband every single day, but yesterday she had skipped her visit.

Mrs. Darhk looked unphased by the question. "Two days ago."

Oliver removed the pictures from the file folder so everyone could see the chart beneath them. "Mrs. Darhk, this is a record of your husband's visitor log for the past few months. We see that you've visited him every day, except for yesterday. Can you explain why you didn't go see him yesterday?"

Ruvé's eyes flashed. "I had something else to do."

"Like what?" Diggle challenged.

"You don't have to answer that," the stone-faced attorney advised. Mrs. Darhk shrugged him off.

"If you must know, it was my daughter's birthday."

Oliver and Diggle looked at one another. There was no mention in any of their files of either of the Darhks having a child.

"Your daughter?" Oliver questioned slowly.

"Yes," she snipped. "Are we finished yet? These questions are ridiculous."

"Not quite."

"I'm going to need a moment with my client," the lawyer interjected. Oliver studied the man for a moment, then nodded. It would be good to have a minute to figure out how they had missed the fact that Damien had a daughter anyway. Oliver reached across the table and grabbed the folder. He flipped the folder shut and stood up. Diggle followed suit.

They left the room and stepped into the hallway. "Did you know anything about a kid?" Diggle asked gruffly.

"Nothing," Oliver confirmed. "I'm going to see if Felicity can dig anything up about it really fast."

"Sounds good. I think when we go back in, I'll take Lyla in with me. You should watch from behind the glass for her reactions while we confront her with whatever we find."

Oliver nodded. Diggle clapped him on the back, and they went their separate ways. Oliver made his way back to Felicity's cubicle where she was still combing through traffic camera footage. She had a pen in her mouth and her eyes were focused on her screen. "Hey," he greeted.

She jumped slightly and looked up at him. "Hey. Get anything from Ruvé?"

"I'm not sure," he began, pulling a chair over so he could sit next to her. "She said she didn't visit her husband yesterday because it was her daughter's birthday."

"What daughter?"

"Exactly." Oliver raised an eyebrow at her, and she understood his request immediately. She turned back to her computer and began tapping on the keys. "There was no mention of a child on any of the official paperwork. But I'll check some other places – Did she say how older her daughter was?"

"No. Only that it was her birthday."

Felicity nodded and kept working. "The Darhks had a lot of money at the time of his arrest. With the amount of wealth Damien had, it wouldn't be impossible for him to keep a child completely off the grid and pay for any of her expenses in cash. I'll search birth records from the last twenty years just to be safe. I'm guessing we don't have a name either?"

"Nope."

"You're not making this very easy," she teased.

"I thought you liked a challenge?"

Her eyes flittered to his and then back to her screen. "I do. I'll start with any birth records that mention either of their names or known aliases." She clicked something and a search started running. "Considering I don't have much to limit the search with, this might take a minute."

Oliver nodded. "Any progress on the traffic cameras?"

She sighed. "Not really. Still waiting on a callback from the city office. I've started just watching other surrounding traffic camera footage from that time period hoping I get lucky and see the SUV."

Oliver grimaced. That sounded boring as hell. It almost made him happy he got to interrogate Ruvé Darhk all afternoon.

Felicity's search ran in the background, and she and Oliver watched the screen for any sign of the SUV that had targeted them. Oliver wondered how Felicity had the patience to do this all the time. After only about a minute and a half he was ready to pull his hair out. He glanced at Felicity. She was biting her bottom lip and her eyes were focused intently on her screen.

Oliver looked around and saw all the other officers engrossed in their own work. The bustle around the station was keeping everyone busy.

Maybe this would be the only moment he'd get to talk to her today about last night. He shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. "Uh, Felicity? About last night…" Felicity stilled her hands on the keyboard and turned to look at him. She looked hesitant as she waited for him to continue. "I…" His throat felt thick and all thoughts left his mind. What exactly did he want to say to her? Thank for telling me your darkest memory? Thanks for letting me sleep next to you, let's do it again sometime?

Her face fell slightly. "It's ok, Oliver."

Startled by the way some of the light in her eyes dimmed, he responded, "What's ok?"

"I can stay in a hotel tonight if we still haven't solved this." She smiled at him, but it didn't reach her eyes.

Oliver clenched his jaw. "What the hell are you talking about? You really want to have this argument again?"

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Well I assumed you wanted to talk about last night because you don't want a repeat. Which I totally understand. I never should have asked you to stay with me and forced you to listen to my sob story. I don't know what came over me. And you're probably right that it was really unprofessional to sleep together -" Her eyes went wide and her cheeks turned pink. " _Not_ like actually sleep together which would be even more unprofessional - and I know how much you like to keep a firm line drawn about work things. I meant literally sleeping together which is what happened -"

Incredulous about what she'd said, Oliver finally interrupted. "Felicity!" he whisper-yelled as he reached out and put a hand on her wrist. "That's not what I was going to say."

She snapped her mouth shut and stared at him. "What were you going to say then?"

He took a breath. "The opposite, actually."

She studied him. "You...don't regret letting me stay?"

"No," he breathed in surprise. "I… I don't tell a lot of people about my past and you said you don't either." Her guarded look told him he was right. "I wanted you to know that I meant what I said. You can always talk to me. If you want to."

She blinked and nodded, a tentative smile appearing on her face. "Thank you, Oliver," she said in a low voice. "That means a lot to me." She moved her other hand so she could lay it on top of his and squeeze gently. "You can always talk to me too."

He felt something light in his chest as he connected his eyes to hers and saw nothing but sincerity.

A ding sounded from the computer and Felicity jerked her eyes away from his to refocus on her search. She clicked a few keys and gasped.

On alert, Oliver leaned in. "What is it? Did you find her birth record?"

Felicity shook her head. "No. But I found her gravestone."

Oliver's mind reeled. Darhk's daughter, the daughter no one knew about, was dead? "I need everything you can find on her and I need it _now_."

Felicity, having anticipated that request, was already typing frantically. "Her name was Nora. There is no birth or death certificate for her, but according to the purchase order for the tombstone, she was was born in 2007 and died just a few months ago. She was only 10."

"Can we search that name?"

"On it," Felicity confirmed. "They clearly paid for everything in regards to her in cash. That's the only way she could stay off the grid like this. _Oh_."

"What?"

Felicity paled, a picture of hospital records on her screen. "Nora was sick." Her eyes scanned the records. "They used a pseudonym for her, but with the birthdate and death date, I think we can reasonably assume this child - whose care was paid for in cash - is her."

"Sick...like with Cancer?" Oliver felt like he was missing a puzzle piece. Darhk's daughter had been a ghost, yet she wa receiving medical care? She'd died? How did no one know about this?

"Leukemia," Felicity confirmed. "It looks like she was being treated at this private clinic for almost a year before she was released, but it's strange because the records show she was scheduled for another round of treatment right before -" She stopped and sucked in a breath. "Oliver," she breathed.

Oliver scanned the records, but he wasn't as quick as she was. He saw the fake name and the lack of any other information - something the clinic clearly was overlooking because of the money the Darhks had. He saw the payments - hundreds of thousands of dollars in cash - for the treatments.

"Oliver, she left the clinic when Damien was arrested." Felicity's eyes were wide when she looked back up at him.

Then it clicked. "When Darhk no longer had the cash flow to pay for the private treatments."

Felicity nodded. "I'll need to do some more digging to firm up the facts, but without so much as a birth certificate, there's no way she could be receiving treatment at a public hospital."

Oliver's heart was speeding up. This was big. He could feel it.

Felicity's face mirrored his thoughts. "Oliver, Nora _died_ after Darhk couldn't pay for her medical care anymore. I think we just found a motive."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

 **12:50 PM; Hour 27**

Oliver waited impatiently in the viewing room as Chief Michaels and Diggle entered to speak with Ruvé Darhk and her lawyer again. After Felicity had identified Nora Darhk, Oliver had quickly pulled his partner and the chief into a conference room to get them up to speed.

Both had been just as surprised as he was at the turn of events. Felicity had joined them to present all the information she'd found in the limited amount of time she'd searched. When compiled, it certainly looked like enough for motive for a crime.

They had Nora's gravestone – which revealed her birth and death dates. They had a child at a nearby hospital with the same birth and death dates. That child's care had been paid for completely in cash, and the child's treatment had been cancelled after Darhk's conviction and subsequent lack of funds from his drug-running business.

Oliver was sure this was enough. When added to the other clues – the use of birds in the threats, the USB drives at the crime scene, the pattern of targets – this was a slam dunk in his mind. Damien Darhk was responsible for all of this.

Chief Michaels wasn't so sure.

She'd told him that while they were definitely closer, they still need something concrete. According to her, they could either do more digging around Nora Darhk in order to verify that the child in question did belong to the Darhks, or they could try to crack Ruvé with this information.

And cracking Ruvé would take a hell of a lot less time than using other channels to verify the parentage of a child who had been dead for a couple of months.

Chief Michaels had told Oliver and Felicity to wait in the observation room while she and Diggle continued the interrogation. Their goal was to cross-reference any information Ruvé gave them and to watch her for any signs or tells.

Felicity stood next to him gripping her tablet in her arms and biting her thumbnail as Chief Michaels and Diggle re-entered the room where Ruvé and her lawyer were waiting. Chief Michaels carried a coffee with her, and Diggle wore the same scowl he'd adopted earlier in the day.

"Do you think this will work?" Felicity whispered to him as the group on the other side of the two-way mirror exchanged pleasantries and introductions with Chief Michaels.

Oliver crossed his arms. "Your guess is as good as mine. Normally I'd say yes, but this woman is prepared. When we picked her up this morning she acted the way the seasoned criminals do when they had been expecting to be brought in and had already gotten their affairs in order."

Felicity shivered. "I felt bad for her."

Oliver turned to look at Felicity and raised an eyebrow in question.

"During the initial trial," she clarified. "She didn't testify – spousal privilege and all that – but I felt bad for her. I saw her as a woman who was losing her husband, not as a cog in his criminal enterprise."

Oliver shrugged. "No one can know if she was involved or not. But we can be sure she's involved in this. Innocent people don't act the way she's acted."

Felicity looked away from him, and Oliver followed her gaze to the interrogation room where Chief Michaels and Diggle were questioning Ruvé further about her daughter. Every time they tried a new question, Ruvé's lawyer advised her that she didn't have to answer. So far, it looked like they were getting minimal responses from her.

"Is it bad that I still feel a little bad for her?" Felicity asked softly, still staring through the window. "I can't imagine losing a child like that. Maybe it pushed her to do things she wouldn't have done otherwise. Does that make me naïve?"

Oliver wanted to tell her yes. He wanted to tell her that she shouldn't feel a damn ounce of sympathy for someone who had most likely killed people they knew – someone who had probably worked to orchestrate the threat against her as well. Instead, he replied in a steady voice, "I think you trying to see the best in people is what makes you irreplaceable to our team."

She offered him a small smile then looked back at the scene in the interrogation room. Diggle was opening the folder with some of the records Felicity had copied.

"Mrs. Darhk, when did your daughter die?" Chief Michaels was questioning.

Ruvé sat stone faced.

Chief Michaels was unphased. She grabbed a piece of paper from the folder Diggle held. "It's ok, we already know. October 14th it looks like." She paused. "I'm truly sorry for your loss."

Ruvé's breaths shuttered.

Chief Michaels continued. "It must have been difficult watching her get sicker and knowing you couldn't do anything about it."

Ruvé's eyes flashed.

"Not only were you out of money with your husband in jail," the chief went on, "but his lifestyle was the reason you'd kept your daughter off the grid. She didn't exist, so you couldn't get help."

"You don't know anything," Ruvé snapped.

Diggle took a picture out of the file – one Oliver knew was the one Felicity had found of the headstone Ruvé had placed an order for. If Ruvé was going to crack, it was going to be now.

"You and your husband blame us for your daughter's death. You think if he hadn't been arrested, she'd be alive. That's why you're targeting everyone involved with the trail," Diggle growled. "But while you rack up a body count now, your daughter is still dead."

"That's enough-" the lawyer protested.

Diggle ignored him. "Your daughter isn't coming back, no matter how many people you hurt in her name. You're placing blame on law enforcement because it's easier than facing that fact!"

"Of course I blame you!" Ruvé shrieked, suddenly no longer put together. "You took my husband and my daughter!" Felicity gasped next to him, and Oliver felt his own stomach turning to lead. Now they were getting somewhere.

"Your daughter never stood a chance because of the life your husband led," Diggle countered.

Ruvé shoved her chair away from the table and stood up. Her lawyer protested, and Diggle moved to stand up too, but Chief Michaels placed a hand on his arm to keep him in place. Ruvé began to pace.

When she spoke again, her voice was calm. "Do you have children, Detective Diggle?"

Diggle crossed his arms. "No."

"Then you don't understand the lengths a parent will go to for their child."

"Ruvé, I'd advise you to stop…" her lawyer started. Ruvé ignored him.

"Do you know how old my daughter was when she died? 10. 10 years old. She still had baby teeth in her mouth and still played with dolls. My innocent child died because of what this department did to my husband. Every single person involved in that case – that stuck up assistant DA, the arresting officers, all the way down to that analyst whose testimony turned the jury right at the end – they killed my daughter. They deserve everything that's coming."

Oliver felt blood rush to his ears at what she'd just confessed and barely registered Felicity's strangled intake of breath before she turned and darted out of the room. Chief Michaels stood. "What's coming, Ruvé?"

"Nothing you can stop!" she shouted. "They're going to pay! All of them! When you least expect it! The plan's in motion and arresting me won't do anything to stop it. We won't rest until everyone involved is cold and buried just like our baby! They'll all be dead, and it will be their own fault!"

Oliver's vision blurred and his stomach revolted. He barely registered the commotion in the interrogation room as Diggle moved to slap handcuffs on Ruvé Darhk, Chief Michaels recited the Miranda Rights, and the lawyer weakly demanded a moment alone to speak to his client.

"It doesn't matter what you do. We will have our revenge and you can't stop it now," Ruvé spoke, her voice filled with venom as Diggle secured the handcuffs.

"We'll stop it," Diggle assured her angrily, yanking her towards the door. "We got you to confess, didn't we?"

Ruvé smiled like a predator whose prey was trapped and didn't know it. "Who says my confession isn't part of the plan?"

Diggle huffed and pulled her towards the door that Chief Michaels was holding open.

The plan's in motion. You can't stop it now. They'll all be dead. Overcome with frustration, Oliver growled and punched his hand against the reinforced wall – ignoring the stinging pain that erupted in his knuckles and reverberated in his injured shoulder. One step forward, but still no closer to stopping whatever had been set in motion. Ruvé wasn't the one who had shot at them yesterday, and he'd be willing to bet she wasn't the one who physically murdered Yamashiro and Ramirez either. There were people out there doing their work – operating under their orders – and those orders were to kill Felicity and everyone else involved in the trial. How the hell were they going to find the people, these ghosts, who had eluded security cameras when plotting and traffic cameras when escaping?

"Oliver?" Chief Michaels poked her head into the room. "I need you and Felicity in the conference room ASAP." She paused. "Where is Felicity?"

Oliver remembered Felicity ducking out right after Ruvé had started to become unraveled. Without a word, he skirted past Chief Michaels and out of the interrogation room.

Fuck, he should have gone after her when she left. She was probably terrified. He knew he was.

She wasn't in her cubicle. He headed down the hallway towards the locker room, which he knew would be mostly deserted at this time right in the middle of a shift. He swung the door open and entered, on alert. "Felicity?" he called.

She didn't answer, but he heard the echo of some movement near her locker, so he stepped inside and shut the door. When he rounded the corner of lockers, he saw her. She was sitting sideways on the bench near the wall, her legs propped up and lying across it in front of her and her back leaning against the cinderblock wall. Her head was resting against the wall, and her eyes were closed.

Not wanting to startle her, he stepped forward slowly. "Felicity?"

She hummed a response but didn't look at him.

"Chief wants us in the conference room." She didn't react. Oliver noticed for the first time that her hand was trembling slightly. He stepped forward again. "Are you ok?"

"I just needed some quiet," she whispered.

"You didn't answer my question," he pressed, taking a seat on the bench across from her. "Are you ok?"

She opened her eyes then and looked at him. The pain he saw in them made him want to punch another wall. Her lips trembled to match the slight shake of her hands. "If I had known about that little girl…"

"Stop," Oliver demanded, already feeling a fire spark in his veins because of where her head was at.

Her eyes searched his, begging him to understand something. "If they had asked, I'm sure we could have found a way to help her. I'm not a monster. I never wanted -"

Oliver shifted forward so he could grab her hands in his, effectively stilling them. They were cold, and Oliver absently started rubbing his hands over hers to warm them. "Don't you dare. Don't you dare start believing a single word that woman said. What happened to that little girl is nowhere close to being on you."

"I know it's not my fault," she replied in a small voice. "But I also know that she was receiving treatment before I helped put her father in jail."

"That's our job. He was a criminal, Felicity. How can you question that?"

"I don't." Her eyes flashed then, and he was happy to see the fight beneath this solemn mood she was in. "Darhk got what he deserved."

Oliver adjusted her hands in his so he could use one hand to trace the outside of her palm. "Then why are you upset? I thought you'd be bothered by the confirmation that they're coming after you."

She shook her head. "We already knew that. I'm not afraid of them."

He could feel a small hum beneath his skin where his hands were connected with hers. He tried to focus on it to keep him from getting angry before asking the next question. "Then why? And if it's because you think you somehow deserve this you better not even think of saying that to me."

She met his eyes again, a vulnerability there that made his heart speed up. "I don't deserve this. I don't blame myself. I just think… it's unfortunate. If I'd known about the girl, I'm sure I we could have worked something out to secure her treatments in the absence of his funds. I would have tried. I swear I would have."

"I know that," he assured her, feeling the certainty of his words deep inside him.

She hesitated. "No matter what her parents were into, I can't imagine a child like that as anything but innocent. It doesn't seem fair that she paid the price for her parents' choices. And I don't like that in doing the right thing, I contributed to something so wrong."

"It's not -"

"My fault," she finished, shifting so she could bring her legs down to sit in front of her and she was facing him completely. "I know that. It's just…sad. I'm just sad."

Oliver stared at her, wondering how someone so pure-hearted and kind could not only survive in this job, but thrive. This beautiful, intelligent, and caring woman was sad over the loss of the child of the man who was trying to kill her. "You really are the best of us, you know that right?"

Her cheeks turned pink and she took her hand from his so she could reach out and lightly shove his uninjured shoulder. "Maybe I need some lessons from you on how to turn my emotions off when I'm at work."

"No," Oliver breathed. "I'm the one who should probably be taking lessons."

She tilted her head and his lips curved into a soft smile, which she returned. They looked at each other, their hands and eyes connected and a deep current of understanding flowing through them. He the overly cold and closed off detective; she the analyst who felt too much. Maybe they needed each other more than either realized.

As the seconds ticked by, the atmosphere became charged. Felicity's tongue darted out to lick her lips, and Oliver's eyes flickered down to follow the movement. Her lips looked soft and inviting. He imagined how they'd taste if he were the one running his tongue across them. He looked back up into Felicity's crystal blue eyes, which somehow seemed darker than they'd been a moment ago. He was suddenly acutely aware that they'd both been leaning forward throughout their conversation and their faces were now so close that he could feel the edges of her breaths ghost lightly over his lips with each of her exhales. All it would take was a slight shift – a small movement – and he'd be close enough to press his lips to hers.

"What part of 'ASAP' do you not understand?"

Diggle's voice echoed through the locker room and had Oliver and Felicity jerking back from each other in surprise. Diggle rounded the corner of lockers and gave them both a hard look. Oliver and Felicity both stood up. Felicity look flustered as she smoothed the front of her shirt.

"Sorry. We're coming," she assured Diggle. Then she snapped her mouth and eyes shut, looking frustrated with herself.

Jesus.

The last thing Oliver needed right now was that mental image. And knowing that's where Felicity's mind was …

"Then let's hurry up. We've got a case to solve," Diggle said gruffly. Oliver could have sworn he saw his partner roll his eyes at them as he turned around to leave the locker room.

Oliver and Felicity followed Diggle to the conference room where Chief Michaels was already waiting for them. Oliver closed the door and locked it as soon as Felicity was inside. The three lower-ranking officers faced their boss and waited for her to speak.

Chief Michaels stood straight and held her chin high as she spoke. "We now have a confession on record from Ruvé Darhk implicating her and her husband in these crimes. We've done great work so far. We know who did this and we know why. Now we have to work on the 'what.'"

Felicity nodded. "We need to figure out what else they have planned that's already been set in motion."

Chief Michaels stepped towards the evidence board where she had re-arranged some of the pictures, diagrams, and other data. "We have a few threads that haven't been pulled on yet."

Oliver stepped up next to her so he could look at the pieces of evidence on the board as well. Unanswered questions swamped his mind. Who had shot at them at Laurel's crime scene and if they were found, would all this end? Was there any significance to the flash drive left behind that contained information about ingredients to make an explosive? How had Darhk and his wife stayed one step ahead in regards to disabling traffic cameras and planting a phony receipt at Bertinelli's Hardware?

If Ruvé was willing to incriminate herself just to taunt them about how they'd never be able to stop the plan she'd put in motion, then Oliver was pretty damn sure all this wasn't over. She wouldn't confess to perpetuate a bluff.

Chief Michaels took a marker and began writing on the whiteboard. "Johnny, you and I are going to Iron Heights to interview Darhk. I've already alerted prison officials to the new charges that will be brought against him in short order, and he's being kept in solitary."

Diggle nodded in understanding.

"Oliver, I want you and Felicity following up on the only other people we know are involved in this. I have half the department out looking for that SUV and the men who shot at you, but we've come up empty so far."

"I have a call in to the Department of Transportation to find out why the closest traffic camera was down yesterday. I'm waiting to hear back," Felicity supplied.

"Good. While we wait for that and the patrol officers keep looking, maybe it's time for the two of you to pay Frank Bertinelli another visit and see if we can figure out why the receipt for the explosive supplies doesn't match the surveillance film."

There was something Chief Michaels hadn't brought up yet, and Oliver hated the fact that he had to mention it at all. But Felicity's safety was on the line and he was going to leave no stone unturned. He cleared his throat. "Chief, what is going to be done about the very real possibility that we have a mole?"

Chief Michaels' face became rigid and somber. "For now, we keep our cards close to the vest."

"Don't tell the patrol officers that we have a confession?" Diggle supplied.

Chief Michaels shook her head. "We keep everything in here. I know Officer Seldon was helping with some analysis yesterday, Felicity. If you need him, we can bring him in."

Oliver's muscles tingled in annoyance. The thought of Felicity needing anyone to do her job, let alone that guy who so obviously had an IQ less than half of hers, was ridiculous to him. "No, I don't need help with this," Felicity assured their boss, helping to assuage some of Oliver's sudden tension.

Chief Michaels nodded. "So we keep the investigation tight, and we try to flush out the mole through our leads. We can't fight this war on two fronts. As soon as the department knows we suspect someone on the inside, we'll have chaos."

"Agreed," Diggle confirmed, glancing at Oliver. "The only way we'll find them is if we don't let it slip that we're on to them."

Felicity tapped on her tablet a few times. "Ok, so Oliver and I will take another stab at Bertinelli, and you two will see what you can get from Darhk. The goal is to come up with any information we can about Darhk's endgame."

"Lyla," Diggle interjected. "What about the banquet? We have about 4 hours until it starts. Are we sure the banquet won't be their target?"

Oliver's muscles tightened at the words. The thought had run through his mind once or twice, but he'd tried to push it back. He was glad Diggle had voiced it. They needed to account for every possibility.

Chief Michaels sighed. "I've thought about it. I've already contacted the canine unit, the bomb squad, and SWAT. They're on alert, and they're going to have extra officers sit out tonight to do extra sweeps and work security at the event. All precautions are being taken."

That seemed to satisfy Diggle, but Oliver wasn't so sure. Was it really wise to have the majority of the law enforcement officials in one place tonight while this threat was looming and while there was someone on the inside pulling strings? He glanced over at Felicity and saw hesitation on her face as well.

They were going tonight whether they thought it was a good idea or not. He'd just have to make sure he was on alert the whole time. Maybe he and Felicity could even use the night to be interviewing their coworkers about the case without their knowing.

A frantic knock on the door had them all turning their heads. Oliver, who was closest, quickly turned the lock and opened it to reveal Ray Palmer's excited and eager face.

"I thought you'd all want to know that we just got a hit on the black SUV from yesterday!" he said, making a move to step into the room. Oliver, aware of all the information displayed on the board, quickly stepped in front of him to prevent it. Ray eyed Oliver, then stepped back in resignation. "Officer Drake got information from a CI that the SUV was parked on 8th and Washington. Cooper confirmed via the traffic cameras. Chief, you want us to head there now, I'm guessing?"

Chief Michaels pushed past them all and out into the bullpen. She turned her head to speak over her shoulder. "Queen, Smoak. You go with the officers on site to follow this. John and I will head where we already discussed." She continued towards the door and Diggle hurried to follow her. "Let's get these bastards."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

 **1:59 PM; Hour 28**

Oliver drove his department issued SUV through the lanes of downtown Starling City towards 8th Street. The red and blue lights built into the top of his windshield flashed in repetition, signaling for the other drivers to get out of his way as he sped across the city.

Felicity sat next to him in the passenger seat staring at her tablet and giving him updates. The only traffic camera on the street showed the black SUV with matching license plate numbers parked in a row of cars along the side of the street. The buildings were out of the camera's frame, but Oliver knew that street contained a slew of tall, skinny brick houses. The SUV was still there, so it was possible the drivers were holed up in one of the houses on the street.

"We're about a minute out," Felicity said into her earpiece, communicating with the officers who were arriving with them.

During the five-minute drive, Felicity had coordinated a plan with an ease that shouldn't have surprised Oliver. By pulling up building blueprints on her tablet and sending them to the officers on the team, she had assigned smaller teams different buildings to canvass as well as information on who supposedly lived in each one. She was a natural at calling the shots like this, and Oliver couldn't help the feeling of pride that swelled in him with every command she gave.

When he pulled onto the street where the SUV was located, he was careful to park a short distance away until the bomb squad could clear the vehicle of any explosive threat. Felicity moved to unbuckle her seatbelt and the reality of the moment hit him like a punch to the gut. If everything went well, they'd be confronting the same people who had tried to kill her yesterday. No matter how much backup they had, he couldn't help the small sliver of anxiety that took root in his stomach at the thought.

When she reached for the door handle, he grabbed her arm and caused her to look at him curiously. In all the commotion before they left the station, he hadn't had a chance to check on her. "You're up for this?"

She huffed good-naturedly, but there was no heat behind it, so Oliver could tell she wasn't offended. He recognized his slight concern mirrored in her eyes. "I'll be fine. Are you? You're the one who was shot _yesterday_." Her eyes skated over his shoulder and then back to his face.

"I'll be fine," he assured her. "You have your vest on?"

She pulled the edge of her coat down to reveal the shoulder strap of her Kevlar vest. She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Do you?"

He smirked and opened his jacket to show her the navy vest. "A promise is a promise." She smiled in appreciation. Oliver reached for his own door handle, then looked back at her. "You stay close to me, ok?" She nodded in understanding, and they opened their doors at the same time to step out into the cold January air.

The other officers who had arrived with them also swarmed out of their cars at the same time. True to Felicity's plan, the groups of twos and threes broke off to head to the buildings they were assigned to clear. Oliver stepped to his left and glanced over his shoulder to make sure Felicity was following. She was.

Oliver had insisted that they take the only unoccupied building on the block, knowing it was the one most likely to house a few criminals looking for a place to lie low. He and Felicity approached the front door and drew their guns in preparation. They paused just outside the door and locked eyes. She nodded at him to let him know she was ready.

With that, Oliver pounded his fist against the door. "SCPD. Open up," he called.

They waited for a few seconds, then they heard the distinct sound of feet running up the stairs from behind the door.

On instinct, Oliver backed up slightly and raised his foot to kick as hard as he could with his heel near the handle. The door burst open with a loud crack and he and Felicity barged inside with their guns raised.

"Oliver!" Felicity called, motioning towards the stairs next to him just in time to see the bottom of a pair of feet disappear above them.

Oliver ran to the stairwell, barely ducking to the side in time to miss a gunshot aimed at him from above. The loud pop echoed through the empty house, and he swerved to rest his back against the wall on the side of the stairwell. He motioned frantically for Felicity to come to him, and she did. She stood next to him, her shoulder touching his.

Another _pop_ sounded from above as their target fired randomly in hopes of hitting someone below, but the wall at their backs provided shelter for the time being. His heart beat fast as he looked over Felicity to make sure she was unhurt. Her eyes were alert and her face was flushed with exertion, but she looked determined. No hint of fear on her lovely face.

That shouldn't have surprised him. He knew she was more brave than probably half the department combined.

"I think we found the right place," he joked in a low voice as another shot rang out.

She shook her head and huffed in amusement. "So what's the plan? How do we get upstairs with them?"

Oliver glanced over his shoulder, then quickly ducked behind the cover of the wall again as another shot sailed past his head. He unzipped his jacket and reached into the pocket on the inside of it to produce a small cylinder.

Felicity's eyes widened. "You brought a _smoke bomb_?"

Oliver shrugged and smiled. "I like to be prepared. Stay behind me," he commanded. She nodded and adjusted the neckline of her shirt so that it was pulled up over her nose. Oliver did the same and watched as she firmed up her grip on her gun. She looked at him to signal she was ready.

A familiar blend of excitement and anxiety flooded through him as he gripped the smoke bomb in his hand. He'd run through scenarios like this countless times in training. He just needed to turn his mind off and let his well-trained instincts take over.

With an exhale, Oliver leaned out to fire a shot up the stairs to draw the assailant out. After the next _pop_ was heard, Oliver ducked out of the cover and lobbed the smoke bomb up the stairs. When it bounced on the ground he heard the familiar _hiss_ as the smoke started coming out followed by some coughing as the gunman at the top of the stairs retreated to get away from the suffocating smoke.

Oliver rushed up the stairs with Felicity close behind him, his gun drawn and ready. The smoke was thick at the top of the stairwell, but he was prepared. Without so much as a lost breath, he and Felicity cleared the first two bedrooms they came to and made their way to the final door. They could hear coughing coming from behind it. Oliver motioned to Felicity who stepped up and put her hand on the door. Their eyes connected, and she flung the door open and retreated out of the way so he could fly past her into the room with his gun trained on the man inside.

"Freeze! Don't move!" Oliver called loudly. He could feel Felicity come up next to him, her gun also drawn on the man.

The man in front of them was stooped over in a coughing fit, his gun forgotten on the ground. At Oliver's words, he put his hands up and yelled as best he could, "Don't shoot!"

"Keep your hands where I can see them!" Oliver growled as Felicity stepped forward to kick the man's gun backwards and out of his reach before falling back in line with Oliver.

As trained, Oliver took a moment to take in his surroundings. They were in a large room – probably a master bedroom. The walls were white, and the room was bright with sun that streamed through the windows behind where their suspect now knelt on the ground. There was another door off to their side – probably a closet or a bathroom – and Oliver motioned for Felicity to check it. He kept an eye on her in his peripheral vision as his gun stayed trained on the offender in front of him. She stepped through the door and emerged a moment later.

"It's a bathroom," she explained. "All clear."

A small weight was lifted from his chest, but the overall tension he felt remained. The sooner they could get this scumbag back to the precinct to question him, the better. The man coughed again, and finally raised his head to look at them.

"The team should be here any second," Felicity said.

"You!" the man in front of them yelled angrily. "You're the one!"

"Don't talk to her!" Oliver barked. "Don't even look at her!" A cold dread was seeping through his limbs at the man's recognition of Felicity. The urge to ask this man right now to tell them what he knew warred with his desire to get Felicity as far from here as humanly possible.

The man spit on the ground. "Felicity Smoak. You've caused us a lot of trouble."

"How do you know my name?" Felicity asked, her voice strong and clear. Oliver didn't know how she was so calm. Hearing her name on this man's lips made Oliver's vision blur in rage.

"You were supposed to be dead yesterday," the man seethed. "When the boss found out we had to change course because of the same analyst bitch who sealed his case he –"

The window behind him shattered at the same time as they heard a _bang_ echo outside. Glass spewed everywhere and Oliver and Felicity both covered their faces with their arms on instinct. Another _bang_ and the man in front of them was lying on the ground.

"Get in the bathroom!" Oliver yelled frantically, following Felicity as they both jumped into the small space off the side of the bedroom. Another shot rang out and more glass shattered as they crouched together on the bathroom floor - their only cover from the apparent sniper the small room that separated them from the vantage point of the window.

"Is he dead?" Felicity panted, trying to look around Oliver who pushed her back so she was completely out of the doorway.

Adrenaline thrummed through him like a cold rainstorm - soaking every muscle and nerve ending in his body. Oliver pressed his hand to his ear to communicate with the rest of the team. "Sniper shots fired from somewhere on East 8th Street into 155 8th Street. 2nd Floor. Suspect down." He heard the crackle in his earpiece as the team responded - half breaking off to go after the sniper and the other half headed to them with a medical team.

"Oliver, if he's alive…" Felicity tried to climb past him again and Oliver shifted to block her.

"Sit down," he growled angrily, pinning her with a glare. He didn't have time to linger on the shock and hurt that flittered across her face at his tone because he heard the other officers calling to them from down the hallway. "In here!" he called back.

Felicity shuffled backwards so she was sitting further in the bathroom and was no longer sharing the same space as him. Oliver moved to stand up, still careful to block the doorway. He carefully leaned out just enough to get a peek at their suspect, who was still lying immobile on the floor, a small pool of blood starting to accumulate beneath him.

"Detective!" an officer called from the hallway. "We have a team clearing the building across the street! Stay covered until then!"

Oliver didn't need to be told twice and apparently Felicity didn't either. With the officer's words, Felicity relaxed slightly, but Oliver couldn't. They'd been so close. So damn close and their only lead gets shot by a sniper? And who the hell knows if their lead was the intended target. For all he knew, Felicity was supposed to be dead right now. Again.

His breaths sped up with his heart rate as they waited for the all clear. He glanced at Felicity - who wasn't looking at him. She seemed ok, but it was hard to tell with them both crouched over in this small space. There had been gunshots and glass flying everywhere just moments ago. He needed to see her fully upright to make sure she hadn't been hit by anything.

As his senses started coming back to him, he noticed the wails of the additional sirens as they approached the scene. The air around him was getting cooler as the crisp winter air seeped into the room through the shattered windows. Oliver could see spatters of blood spread across the floor of the bedroom they'd escaped from.

He glanced back at Felicity again, finally starting to feel some of his usual calm return to him with each minute that passed without more gunshots. Her jaw was set and she was staring intently in the opposite direction of him. She was angry with him, he realized with a start. Maybe he _had_ been a little harsh, but -

She shifted slightly and his eyes caught on a small spot of crimson on her jacket near her abdomen.

His heart rammed into his throat as he reached for her. "Felicity." His voice came out strangled, and he looked at him then with alarm. He grabbed her arm and urged her to stand up with him, which she did. As soon as he could get a good look at her front, he saw the smatters of blood across it, low enough that she could have been hit just below the end of her Kevlar vest. Frantically, he reached his hand to her jacket and pulled it open, eyes scanning her vest and lower abdomen for signs of injury.

"Oliver," she called softly.

He ignored her, letting his hand skim across the sides of her vest looking for any punctures in the material. The shirt peeking out from the bottom of her vest was clean of any blood, so any hit must have gone through the vest. And as good as the vests were, it wasn't impossible for someone like Darhk or his men to get their hands on armor piercing rounds…

His breaths were uneven and his hands were shaking slightly when she called his name again. "Oliver, it's not my blood." She took his face in her hands and directed him to look at her. "I'm ok. It's not mine."

Her words finally registered and he let them seep into his consciousness like a balm. She was searching his face, concern written in every small detail of her features.

She was ok. She wasn't hurt.

Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her flush against him. She let out a breath in surprise, then relaxed and wrapped her arms around his back in response. He let his face fall into the crook of her neck and breathe in the scent of her skin. He let himself revel in the steady beat of her heart that had lulled him to sleep the night before. She was alive and she was safe.

"I'm ok," she repeated softly, clearly sensing his distress.

He held her close for a few moments, using her presence as a reassurance that she was here and he hadn't lost her. When he heard movement in the hallway - the other officers preparing to come in most likely - he loosened his hold and lifted his face from her neck. "I'm sorry I snapped at you," he said in a low voice, hoping he wouldn't see her clenched jaw when he returned his gaze to her face.

She relaxed more in his arms and let out a breath. "I know."

"Queen? Smoak? Just got the all clear!" an officer called.

Felicity lowered her arms from him and stepped back, forcing him to release his hold on her as well. He finally looked at her face, and was relieved to see her give him a reassuring smile.

Oliver turned and led the way out of the bathroom to meet the other officers and the EMTs who were already attending to the suspect. Oliver looked to Ray Palmer, the officer nearest to him, and Ray shook his head to signal that the man they'd been after was dead.

Oliver sighed. Their best lead. Dead before they could get any information out of him.

And not only that, but he'd been killed by a sniper.

A sniper wouldn't have been in place unless they were warned ahead of time. When the thought struck him, Oliver automatically reached his hand back to rest on Felicity's arm. She looked at him quizzically, but he just shook his head slightly. She'd probably realize the implications of this attack as soon as she let herself think about it, but until then, he wouldn't be letting her out of arm's reach.

"Let's get the body to the lab. Maybe they'll find something useful," Oliver instructed, letting his hand on Felicity's arm roam to rest on her upper back as she stepped closer to him. "Felicity and I are going to head back to the station to pursue another lead. Palmer, I want you on point here."

Ray's chest puffed up like the Boy Scout he was. "Of course. I'd be happy to take charge."

Oliver nodded. "Make sure the scene is secured and I want this whole house searched for everything. Evidence, fingerprints, hair samples, _everything_. If someone else so much as breathed in this house while he was here, I want to know about it."

"On it, detective," Ray vowed. "Did you recognize the man?" Ray nodded his head to the body on the ground at the other end of the room.

"I did," Felicity supplied. Both men turned to look at her with interest. "Eobard Thawne. One of Darhk's top cronies. I remember his face from the case last summer."

"So it really is tied to Darhk. I'll be damned," Ray said with a whistle. "Now that we've got him, we'll definitely be able to tie all of this to that piece of garbage!"

Ray seemed to think this was a win because he didn't know they already _had_ Darhk. Oliver couldn't afford to enlighten him right now, so he let Ray revel in the perceived victory. "Call me if you get anything," Oliver commanded before walking past the officers and leading Felicity out of the room.

When they got to the stairs, Felicity started to whisper, "Oliver, do you think -"

"Not here," he cut her off in a low voice.

She seemed to understand because she didn't speak again until they were both safely buckled in the car and Oliver was pulling out onto the street and back towards the precinct. "That sniper wasn't there for me, were they?" she asked, already resigned to the answer.

"We can't know. But I doubt it," Oliver grit out.

Felicity sighed. "So someone knew we were on the way to get Thawne and killed him before we could bring him in." She shifted in her seat so she could lean towards Oliver. "We barely had time to grab our vests that's how fast we ran out of the precinct. How could Darhk have known so fast and given orders to have him killed?"

Oliver didn't have an answer to that question because there were too many variables. Was there someone else calling the shots on the outside of the prison in conjunction with Darhk? Was there a contingency plan in place to take out anyone involved if they were about to be found out? The only surety was that for Darhk and his people to know that Thawne had been made, someone in the precinct had to have told him.

He glanced at Felicity and knew she'd reached the same conclusion by the way she was staring out the windshield and biting her thumbnail. He didn't like to see her worried, but he was also glad she was taking this seriously. Clearly there was someone who worked with them every day who was involved in the threat on her life. The fact had his hands gripping the steering wheel painfully tight.

When he found that bastard, he was going to tear them apart for this.

"Oliver?"

He glanced over and saw she was looking at him, but her hands were fiddling with the edge of her jacket in distress. "Yeah?"

"Do you think it means something that they didn't try to kill me?"

Oliver felt his jaw tighten. "We don't know that they weren't after you."

"There were three gunshots. I saw Thawne's body. Three wounds." She said the words calmly, but her body language gave away the fact that she was unsettled. He was too. "Plus Thawne said they had to 'change course' so maybe that's why they need me alive now…"

"Felicity?" She looked at him expectantly. "I don't give a shit what their plan is. Nothing is going to happen to you." She gave him a weak smile. "Call Diggle. We need to let them know what's going on."

She did as he asked and put the phone on speaker. Diggle picked up on the second ring and said he and Chief Michaels were pulling into the parking lot of Iron Heights. Felicity and Oliver quickly relayed the events that had just happened to their partner, who listened in stunned silence.

"You're both ok?" Diggle questioned when they finished.

"We're ok," Felicity assured him. "We're on the way back to the station."

Diggle made a noise that suggested he didn't like that plan. "Oliver, we need to do something about this mole situation. It's getting out of hand now."

"I know," Oliver grunted, turning the SUV into the precinct parking lot. "And until we do, Felicity can't be there."

"What?" Felicity protested, looking at him in shock. "You can't take me off this case, Oliver. I don't like to brag, but you need me on this!"

"I know," Oliver assured her quickly. "But we can't deny that it's not safe there for you now. We have no idea who this person is or what their endgame is. We're going to go inside, grab what we need, then you and I are spending the rest of the day working from my place."

"He's right, Felicity," Diggle agreed. "Things have escalated. We can't trust anyone there now that a mole is more than just a theory."

Felicity sighed, but she didn't argue.

"Tell the chief what we're doing. We'll be in touch when we get to my place," Oliver said. Diggle agreed, then Felicity hung up the phone. Oliver looked at her. "I know you don't like being told what to do, but this is how it has to be."

"I know," she said, resigned to the fact that they were past the time when she could protest about being able to take care of herself. This case needed her working safely in order to crack it, and her normal workplace couldn't do that for her right now.

Oliver pulled into his usual parking spot and turned off the engine. "I want us in and out, ok? Get only what you absolutely need. If we can't carry it, we can't bring it."

She bit her lip. "Understood. I think I'll only need my tablet and maybe a disk reader so I can keep going through the Bertinelli security footage."

"Ok, then we'll get those things. You ready?"

She put her hand on the door handle. "As I'll ever be. Let's go."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

 **3:24 PM; Hour 29**

If Felicity thought it was strange to come to his place in the light of day, she didn't show it. When they entered his building, she waved to a neighbor who was on the way out as if they were old friends. She waited for him to scan his fingerprints on the elevator looking as giddy about it as she had last night. And when the elevator opened to the fifth floor, she marched right to his door and waited patiently for him to unlock it before strolling in as if she'd never left.

"Thanks for letting me stay here. Again," she teased as she set her things down on the kitchen island and looked around. "Huh. It looks just as nice in the afternoon sunlight. I was serious about you giving me a good recommendation to your landlord by the way."

Oliver huffed out a laugh and set down his jacket. "I'll get right on that."

As Felicity took her tablet out and started setting up a workspace for herself at the kitchen island, Oliver walked over to the sink and grabbed a glass from the cabinet next to it. He reached down and filled it with water from the faucet, then opened the drawer next to him and pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen. He popped the cap open and shook four tablets out into the palm of his hand. He plopped the tablets into his mouth and chased them down with the water.

When he turned around, Felicity was studying him with a serious expression.

"Does your shoulder hurt?"

Oliver shrugged. "It's a little stiff. Nothing I can't handle." In truth, it was starting to ache like a bitch – which would probably be expected for a limb that was healing from a bullet wound. But he didn't have time today to dwell on his relatively minor injury. A few over the counter pain relievers would be enough to take the edge off.

Felicity didn't seem to buy it. Her face was skeptical as she glanced towards his shoulder. "Maybe I should check it. You changed the bandage this morning, right?"

Oliver set the glass down in the sink. "Felicity, it's fine. I promise."

She stared at him for a moment and then shook her head incredulously, turning her attention back to her tablet as she spoke. "Ok, but if it gets infected because you're not taking care of it and resting I'm going to be really annoyed."

Oliver pressed his lips together and nodded in acknowledgement, trying not to laugh. Annoyed Felicity would surely be a remarkable sight. He leaned forward so his elbows and forearms rested against the island top in front of where she worked and watched her focus on the screen. "So what's the plan for the afternoon? We're running out of leads."

Felicity hummed in agreement. "Hopefully Digg and Chief Michaels get something out of Darhk. Until then, our only real lead on what they have planned is the flash drive. If we can figure out what they're doing with the explosive materials, we'll be able to stop them."

Oliver sighed internally. Figuring out what the explosives were intended for was going to be damn near impossible since all they had to go on right now was an electronic trail. If anyone could figure it out, it would be Felicity, but he didn't like having to put all their eggs in that basket since the information she needed to solve it might not even _exist_.

"Now that we know that Thawne was helping Darhk, I'm going to use facial recognition to scan the surveillance footage at Bertinelli's on the off chance it was him who made the purchase," she continued. "At the very least, maybe we can see what all he bought so we can figure out the approximate size explosive they're making."

"Sounds like a good plan," Oliver agreed. He moved over to the refrigerator and scanned the inside. He had the essentials; he wouldn't be able to make anything too fancy, but he could definitely whip up some spaghetti and sauce. He reached in and grabbed the ground beef he'd planned to use last night for dinner before the day had gone to shit. He closed the refrigerator door behind him, then put the beef down on the island counter top. Felicity didn't even look up.

"The program would run a lot faster if I were using my computer, so we'll just have to be patient while my poor tablet tries to process all this data," she chirped while she worked.

Oliver hummed in acknowledgement as he gathered some other ingredients and set them next to the beef. When he reached for some of his favorite spices, he paused. Did Felicity even like spaghetti? He shook his head. Of course she liked spaghetti. Everyone liked Italian. Right?

Deciding to go for less spice just in case, Oliver put the red pepper flakes back and grabbed the dried basil instead. He added the spices to his pile of ingredients. The glass spice containers clinked against the granite countertop, and Felicity finally looked up.

She looked startled for a moment, and her brows furrowed. "What are you doing?"

Oliver's lips twitched. "You like Italian, right?"

She looked like she was trying to solve an advanced calculous equation. "Yes…"

"Good. I'm making spaghetti. We missed lunch."

"You like to cook?" Her expression was unreadable. "How did I not know you like to cook?"

Oliver shrugged, opening the package of ground beef and using a spatula to dump it into a skillet. "I don't advertise it I guess."

Her unreadable expression slowly morphed into a wide smile. "Oliver, this is fantastic!"

He looked over at her with a raised eyebrow. "Because you like spaghetti?"

"No – well, yes I love spaghetti – but it's fantastic because I _hate_ cooking!" She looked like a kid who'd just opened up a gift on Christmas morning and found a puppy inside.

Oliver snorted. "You've mentioned that before. You wanna explain how that's fantastic though?"

She laughed – the sound ringing through his usually quiet apartment and filling every lonely corner. "Well, what better way for me to get good recommendations from the neighbors and get in good with the landlord than being over here all the time to eat your food?" She had a teasing glint in her eye, and now it was Oliver's turn to laugh.

"Did you just issue yourself an open invitation to come over here for dinner?"

"I consider it more like me dropping a hint about how you can help poor, culinary skill-less me who also is in love with your apartment building," she mused. "Also a hint about how you can stay on my good side."

Oliver added the seasonings and tomato sauce to the already sizzling and browning meat, and began to stir it. "All I have to do to stay on your good side is cook for you? I had no idea you were so easy to please," he joked.

"Oh yes," Felicity confirmed, leaning towards him across the kitchen island. "For future reference, all I need to be happy is food, red wine, and fast Wi-Fi."

Oliver glanced at her over his shoulder and couldn't help but smile. "We'll have to save the red wine for next time. Work and all." She pretended to pout, and he chuckled. "But there are cokes and water in the fridge. Glasses are up there." He motioned to the cabinet next to him with his shoulder.

Felicity bounced down from the barstool she was on and reached up into the cabinet next to him for two glasses. "Coke or water?" she asked him as she took the glasses over to the refrigerator.

"Water."

"Me too," she chirped, pressing one of the glasses against the panel on the door to fill it with ice and then water. She filled both with water, and then sat his next to him while he cooked and returned to her seat in front of her tablet, glass in hand. Oliver continued to stir the sauce he was making in the skillet while Felicity began tapping her finger against her tablet again. "I've only searched about 10% if the security footage, but so far nothing," she said.

"If he's on there, you'll find him," Oliver said confidently. "You still haven't heard back from the Transportation Department about the traffic camera?"

Felicity groaned. "No. I've called twice already and told them this is in regards to an urgent investigation, and they still told me 'they'll work on it.' It seems ridiculous that they'd have to 'work on' getting me a name for who gave the order to take that camera off line, but here we are."

Oliver filled a pot with water and set it on the stove to boil. "Do you want me to call and rattle their cages?"

Felicity pursed her lips. "I don't think it will work. I already was mean to them, Oliver."

Oliver laughed. "Your definition of 'mean' or mine?"

She narrowed her eyes. "The dictionary definition." He smirked. "You don't think I can be mean?" she demanded.

"I don't think you have a mean bone in your entire body," Oliver teased as he added the uncooked spaghetti to the boiling water.

Felicity eyed him dubiously. "Well, you're wrong. I can be very mean. You're just lucky you've never been on the receiving end. I used my loud voice at them and everything."

Oliver smirked and removed the spaghetti sauce from the burner. "I'm sure they were shaking in their seats."

"Shut up, Oliver," Felicity responded with a laugh. "Maybe someday you'll get to see me be mean."

"I think I'd like that."

Felicity pursed her lips together and tried not to smile as she went back to her work. "Maybe I'll call them again just in case…"

Oliver reached forward and turned off the stove. "Let's eat first."

Felicity's eyes lit up. "Yes! I'm starving and that smells delicious."

Oliver pulled two plates down from the cabinet next to him and spooned some spaghetti onto each one, then covered it with meaty red sauce and parmesan cheese. He took the plates and set one down in front of Felicity. Felicity shifted her tablet over so it was out of the way and then looked at her plate with wide eyes. "This looks incredible. How did you learn to cook like this?"

Oliver set his own plate down, then opened a drawer to grab some forks for them. He passed one to Felicity, and then sat down next to her on the adjacent edge of the kitchen island. "When I was growing up, our housekeeper taught me," he admitted sheepishly, spearing some of the spaghetti with his fork. "I enjoyed it, so when I got older I just kept doing it."

"Good for you," Felicity nodded. "I sometimes wish I'd spent more time learning to cook that to build computers. I love my computers, but frozen dinners get kind of boring after a while." She took a bite of her spaghetti. Oliver watched her, suddenly nervous for her reaction. He'd cooked for people before on occasion, but for some reason he really wanted Felicity to like what he'd made. "Wow, this is really good, Oliver!" she gasped after she'd finished swallowing her first bite.

Oliver smiled a little and looked down at his food. He was happy she liked it, but there was also a more unfamiliar feeling pooling in his chest. One that made him feel like he was ten feet tall. Pride?

Felicity put another bite of spaghetti in her mouth and shifted in her seat to reach for something near her. She picked it up, then set it down gently between them. Oliver recognized the business card from the FBI agent the other day immediately. She cleared her throat. "Do you want to talk about this? I don't want to overstep, but I've been told I'm a good listener."

Oliver looked straight into her crystal blue eyes behind her glasses and didn't doubt that she was a good listener for a second. He'd experienced it last night when he confided some of his darkest, most personal memories to her. Maybe she could help bring him some clarity on the job offer from the FBI too. He took a sip of water and prepared himself to open up to her once again – surprised by how little resistance he felt in his gut at the thought of it.

"For as long as I can remember I've wanted to work for the FBI," he started. She watched him as she ate, listening intently like she'd promised. "The magnitude of the cases, the chance to help people on a larger scale, the ability to move around and never have to settle in one place…that's always attracted me."

She nodded, her face not betraying her thoughts – which Oliver found slightly frustrating. He liked being able to read her.

"But when that agent approached me a few days ago and asked me to call her… I thought I'd be happy when that moment came, you know?"

"But you weren't?" she supplied quietly.

Oliver shook his head as he remembered the way his stomach had soared when the woman had offered him the job and then plummeted when she told him he'd be stationed out of Quantico and would travel around based on his cases. He hadn't understood his own mixed reaction then, but he was starting to. "The idea of never having a true home never bothered me before, but now… I don't know."

"What changed?" she prompted, holding his eyes with her own.

Oliver paused, wondering how honest he should get. There were pieces to this answer he hadn't even acknowledged to himself, let alone someone else. But something about the way she was staring at him with her open eyes, accepting face, and small smile was acting like a fishing hook that had latched on to the thoughts and feelings he'd been burying. Almost as if in a trance, he started admitting the things he'd told himself he never would. "I didn't have anyone I'd miss here. Now I do."

"Oliver," Felicity breathed.

Oliver held her gaze. "If I take this job, I won't see you every day. Or Diggle. And I'd miss you. I don't know if an FBI job is worth it anymore."

Her lips parted slightly at his words and her eyes stayed locked on his. She reached across the counter-top to rest her hand on top of his, sending a bolt of warmth up through Oliver's arm where her fingers touched the back of his hand. "I'd miss you too," she said softly, a small smile appearing on her face. "But you should do what is best for you. I'll support you no matter what you decide. There's always Face Time, right?" she joked lightly.

Oliver didn't laugh. He knew if he chose to take this job, things wouldn't be the same. He wouldn't talk to her every day anymore. He wouldn't hear her babble inappropriately when she was flustered and he wouldn't see her face turn that lovely shade of pink He wouldn't have the easy camaraderie with a new partner that he'd come to count on with Diggle.

He wouldn't be able to invite Felicity over for dinner if he lived all the way across the country.

Maybe what he'd always thought he wanted wasn't really what he wanted at all.

The moment was broken when Felicity's tablet started to beep. Felicity jumped slightly and broke her eye contact with him. She moved to pick up her tablet and scan the screen for the results. "Oh my God," she murmured.

"What?" Oliver demanded, instantly on alert. He stood up and shifted around the corner of the kitchen island to stare at the device over her shoulder.

"I found him," Felicity gasped. "Thawne. He did buy explosive supplies at Bertinelli's."

Oliver watched the security footage she'd found repeat itself on loop. It showed the same man they'd faced off against a couple of hours ago enter the store, grab a couple of the things they'd seen on the flash drive, and proceed to the counter to talk to Frank Bertinelli himself. He talked to the owner for a few minutes, then paid for his items and left. "When was this?"

Felicity touched the corner of her tablet to reveal the time stamp. "A week before Laurel's murder," she stated. "It looks like he's buying enough supplies for a small explosive. Maybe enough to take out a car or a small room."

"What's he talking to Bertinelli about?" Oliver questioned, pointing to the screen where Thawne was carrying on a conversation with Frank.

Felicity shrugged. "Since his back is to the camera here, there's no way to know. Maybe it's small talk? All these criminals run in the same circles," she joked.

Oliver wasn't so sure. The way Frank was nodding his head and listening intently made Oliver think that whatever Thawne was telling Bertinelli, it was something important. "We need to pick up Frank Bertinelli right now."

Felicity nodded. "I'll call Digg."

Something else occurred to Oliver then. "So that receipt we found in Bertinelli's files? It was definitely planted?"

Felicity held her phone to her ear while it rang. "I don't see any other option at this point. This footage hasn't been tampered with, but this receipt wasn't found. I talked with the officers going through the receipts when they finished, and they had nothing."

Oliver clenched his jaw. Which means at the very least that Bertinelli had hidden the real receipt and replaced it with a fake to throw them off. At worst, the mole on their end had done it. Either way, this revelation was unsettling.

"Diggle?" Felicity said. Oliver heard the other man speaking through the line. "Hold on, I'm going to put you on speaker." Felicity set her phone down next to her almost clear plate and pushed the button to turn the speaker on. "Ok, go ahead."

"That smug son of a bitch admitted to having Laurel, Ramirez, and Yamashiro killed," Diggle started, and Oliver could hear the anger in his partner's voice. "And he repeated the same line his wife did about things being put in motion and us not being able to stop it."

Oliver ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

"Oliver and I found Thawne buying explosive supplies on the security camera footage from Bertinelli's," Felicity said, clearly unsurprised by Darhk's admission or threat.

They could hear Diggle groan on the other end of the line. "How much did he buy?"

"Looks like only enough for a small explosive," Oliver supplied, watching Felicity nod along with him even though Diggle wouldn't be able to see it.

"Well that's good news I guess. I was worried the banquet might be the target," Diggle said in a low voice.

Oliver froze. The thought had crossed his mind earlier, but with the day they'd had, he hadn't had a lot of time to dwell on it. If a criminal had a grudge against law enforcement and wanted to cause maximum damage, a banquet where everyone was gathered would be an easy target. He saw Felicity was thinking the same as him because she was biting her lip and her brows were furrowed in concern.

"Diggle, we have to cancel the banquet. We don't know what Darhk has planned and -"

"No," Diggle interrupted adamantly. "Lyla says that's not an option."

"Why the fuck not?" Oliver objected, losing his temper. "She wants us all in one place acting as a soft target for whoever of Darhk's cronies are still out there ready to do his bidding? This is ridiculous! We have to cancel."

"Oliver," Diggle warned severely. "I promise you Lyla knows the risks and she's taking precautions to offset them."

"Precautions aren't good enough," Oliver ground out. They _knew_ Darhk had a plan and had explosives. They _knew_ many of the people he was targeting would be at the banquet tonight. In Oliver's mind, there was no reason on Earth good enough to justify going through with this party. "What if we don't cancel and something happens? If people get hurt?" Oliver's eyes cut over to Felicity, then back to the phone he was talking into. "You can live with that?"

"Oliver," Felicity said quietly, moving to place her hand on his forearm to calm him.

"There's more at play here than you realize," Diggle argued.

"Then enlighten me," Oliver demanded.

They heard Diggle sigh through the phone. "Lyla will kill me for telling you this, but she can't cancel the banquet because the state is trying to cut our funding. We're talking major rollbacks and a bunch of us would be laid off. She's been trying to get a representative to come to the precinct for weeks to meet everyone and see how essential all personnel are, but they won't bite. This is her only shot."

Felicity's mouth dropped open and she looked at Oliver in concern. Oliver felt his own heart drop and closed his eyes in frustration. Of course. This was why the chief had been pushing this banquet so hard and encouraging everyone to attend. She was trying to get them to save their jobs without actually telling them they were in danger. And if they cancelled, the chance to lobby against budget cuts would be cancelled too.

"She'll do her best to make sure it's safe, but she can't cancel it, man," Diggle reiterated more quietly.

Oliver sighed. "No, I guess not." He didn't like it, but he could see the position Chief Michaels was in. "But I think Felicity should stay here."

"What?" Felicity protested.

"That might be a good idea," Diggle mused. "I'm sure we could get Lyla to approve her absence."

"Absolutely not!" Felicity argued. "If you guys are going, I'm going. This might be our best chance to talk to and observe other people from the department for the mole!"

Oliver's jaw ticked. "Yes, and you're their number one target. You're not going."

Her eyes flashed at him. "You don't get to make that decision."

"Felicity," he almost growled. Why did she have to argue about everything? He needed her to stay here, safe. How was he supposed to be focused on his work knowing she was most likely in Darhk's crosshairs all night? "It's too dangerous."

"If it's not too dangerous for you, then it's not too dangerous for me." She crossed her arms and glared at him defiantly. "I'm going and I'm continuing this investigation tonight whether you like it or not. You can either go with me, or I can go on my own."

Oliver clenched his jaw as he stared at her and she stared back.

"She's right, Oliver," Diggle spoke up. "We could use her there."

Felicity raised her eyebrows in challenge at him, and Oliver frowned. Great. They were ganging up on him. "Fine," he gritted out. "But you stay with Diggle or me the _entire_ time. I don't want you alone for even a second."

Felicity rolled her eyes, but he could see the corners of her mouth twitching as if fighting a smile. The fire in her eyes subsided

"Lyla is going to have SWAT and the bomb squad on standby for the event. She's already had the convention center swept once, and she's going to have it swept again just before it starts," Diggle said. "Knowing that whatever Darhk has planned only includes a small explosive makes me feel a little better though. It sounds like he didn't have Thawne buy enough fire power for the entire convention center where the banquet is."

"No, definitely not," Felicity confirmed. "Enough to shatter the windows if he blows up a car outside, but that would cause minimal injuries to anyone inside most likely."

They heard Diggle saying something to someone on his line of the phone. "Ok guys, Lyla and I are headed back your way. She's going to send some people to bring Bertinelli in and we'll hold him until the morning when we can question him. We'll see you both at the banquet."

Felicity said goodbye and hung up the phone. Oliver watched her with concern lacing though the pit of his stomach. Every instinct in him told him that he should be taking her far away from the threat, not towards it. But she was adamant that she wanted to be there, and he couldn't do anything to stop it. And if he was honest, he knew her help would be invaluable. The team was better when she was with them.

But that didn't make it any easier. So as he picked up both their empty plates and loaded them into the dishwasher, he wished like hell that they could just get through tonight, catch whoever was helping Darhk, and put this whole nightmare behind them.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

 **5:34 PM; Hour 32**

After hanging up with Diggle, Felicity had told Oliver that she'd need to go home to get ready for tonight. The event was black tie only, so neither of them could show up in the jeans they were wearing right now. Oliver had understood that she was giving him an option. He could let her go home for a couple of hours while he got ready himself, or he could go with her and wait at her apartment.

And leaving her alone at the apartment at which she'd already been issued a death threat was not actually an option for him, so he'd quickly changed into his tuxedo so he could go with her.

Her eyes had lit up when she'd seen him all dressed up, and she'd given him one of those smiles that made his insides feel like molten lava. As they'd driven to her apartment, she'd talked to him about how the boy she'd gone to her high school prom with had picked her up wearing khaki shorts and a polo. She'd used the story to tell him how happy she was that he knew what 'black tie' meant. He'd laughed with her as she told the story, and he'd asked if she ever went out with that boy again. She'd only laughed and shook her head, which made Oliver happy for some reason.

Once they were at her apartment and they'd cleared it of any threats, Felicity had retreated into her room to get ready while Oliver sat down on the couch and turned on the television. The news of ADA Lance's murder was big news in the city, and he could barely find a channel that _wasn't_ reporting on the case – even though most of what they were reporting was either extremely vague or just inaccurate. Eventually he'd found a baseball game to watch while he waited.

About an hour later, Felicity finally emerged.

Oliver stood up when he heard her bedroom door open, then felt his jaw go slack when she came into view. She was wearing a long blue dress with jewel embellishments around the neck. Her golden hair was twisted up elegantly on her head. She had replaced her glasses with contacts, so the darker shade on her eyelids made her crystal blue eyes shine like deep ocean water. Her cheeks were a dusty pink and her lips were painted a deep red color.

Oliver could do nothing but stare as she walked towards him, her heels clacking against the hardwood floor. When she noticed his expression, she looked reserved. "What? Is it too much? Should I change?"

Oliver nearly choked on his own tongue. "No," he rasped, then cleared his throat. "You look perfect."

She blinked, and then smiled. "Thanks." She looked down for a moment shyly, and when she looked back up her cheeks were slightly pinker beneath her makeup. "Should we go? We don't want to be late."

Oliver nodded eagerly, jamming his hands into his jacket pocket in search of his keys. "Yeah, we uh, we should definitely do that. Let me just…where did I put my keys?" He felt all over the front of his jacket and the sides of his pants. Where had he put them?

Felicity clacked forward and bent down to pick something up off the coffee table in front of him. She extended her hand out in front of his face so he could see his car keys in the palm of her hand. She wore a curious smile as he cleared his throat and plucked the keys from her outstretched hand.

God, he needed to get a grip.

The ride to the convention center went quickly. Despite being thrown off initially by her walking out of her room looking like an angel sent straight from Heaven, Oliver found he was able to slip back into the easy routine of talking about the case and chatting about other things with her when they got into his precinct-issued SUV.

Felicity hacked into a security camera at the convention center while he drove, and gave him updates about who had already arrived and if anything looked out of the ordinary. So far, everything appeared just as they'd expected. Guests were arriving and taking their places among the tables that were set up.

When Oliver pulled up in front of the event center, he and Felicity got out and Oliver handed his key over to the valet driver who would take his car and park it.

The annual banquet was always a nice affair, but it looked as though the state has really kicked it up a notch this year. After the valet parking, Oliver ushered Felicity through the coat check where there were employees waiting to take their coats and hang them up for the duration of the evening. When they walked into the convention center, they were greeted by brilliant chandeliers glistening in time with the slight background clinking of wine glasses. A band played classical melodies in the far corner. Every table was set with fine china and crystal champagne flutes.

Oliver couldn't help feeling a little put off by it all. As if reading his mind, Felicity whispered beside him, "I wonder if we could be fully funded if they'd scaled back the banquet this year?"

Oliver rested his hand on her lower back and leaned over so he could respond in a whisper in her ear. "We both know the state cares more about optics than the actual job." She pressed her lips together and shook her head at the sad, but true, fact. "Let's go find Digg and Chief Michaels."

They walked together through the amassed crowd, running into a few people from work in their search.

"Oh, over there," Felicity said to him when she spotted Diggle and Chief Michaels walking in together and heading to a table on their right.

Oliver and Felicity started making their way towards their partners. Oliver was eager to compare notes with Diggle and to make a plan for the evening. They all needed to be on the same page about what they were looking for in a possible mole – assuming the rat had the guts to show up here tonight. He also wanted to know exactly what Darhk had said and how he'd said it. Any miniscule clue could be a tip about his plans.

"Felicity!" They stopped when they heard a familiar voice calling her name. Oliver recognized it immediately as Ray Palmer, and fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"Ray, I'm glad to see you," Felicity said politely as she turned to greet him.

Ray stepped up to her and kissed her cheek, and Oliver narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. Felicity laughed awkwardly as Ray pulled away. "You look stunning, Felicity. Absolutely breathtaking."

"Thanks, Ray. That's really sweet. You look nice too."

Oliver thought Ray would look better with a black eye, but maybe that was just him.

Ray turned to Oliver and nodded briefly. "Queen," he acknowledged.

"Palmer," Oliver gritted back, trying to hide his annoyance. Felicity threw him a curious look before Ray drew her attention again.

"So Felicity, I'm glad you were able to get out of that family reunion so you could make it tonight," Ray said easily, his face eager.

Oliver eyed Felicity and saw her face redden slightly and her shoulders cringe a tiny bit. She darted her eyes to him and then back to Ray. "Uh…yeah, it turns out it was cancelled at the last minute. Great luck, right?"

Oliver smirked. Felicity was a terrible liar.

"Yeah!" Ray agreed. "I wish you had called me when you found out. I thought you knew my invitation to accompany you stood even if it was a last minute thing."

If Oliver had been drinking anything, he would have spit it out before dissolving into laughter. Why didn't this guy ever take a hint? Felicity had been blowing him off since she first came on with the department, and here he was still trying. Some might admire Ray's tenacity, but Oliver found it borderline embarrassing and creepy at this point. As it stood, he was able to limit himself to a small snort and a smile.

Felicity threw him a glare, then forced a smile at Ray. "That's nice Ray. But it all worked out."

"Yes, it did," Ray confirmed, looked Felicity up and down in a way that had Oliver's amusement fading to annoyance. Fast. "I should mingle, but save me a dance! And if you need a ride home tonight, just let me know." He winked, and Felicity forced another polite smile before Ray walked past them to another group.

When Ray was gone, Oliver put his hand back on her back to guide her towards where Diggle and Chief Michaels were now seated. "Why do you indulge him?" Oliver wondered aloud.

Felicity sighed. "At first I just didn't want to make things awkward at work because I was new. Now I know Ray is a nice guy and is just… bankrupt in social skills." Oliver snorted out another laugh, and she elbowed him lightly in the side. "You know what I mean. I just don't want to hurt his feelings too badly."

Oliver smirked. "What was it you were saying earlier about being mean?"

"Well I don't want to be _mean_ to people who aren't mean first!" she defended herself lightly. "Although Ray clearly isn't getting the message so maybe I'll have to resort to that," she mused.

"Oliver. Felicity." Diggle waved them over to his table. Oliver and Felicity made their way towards him and Chief Michaels and greeted them. Felicity sat her clutch purse down next to Diggle's seat, and Oliver claimed the seat on her other side.

"So you both ready for tonight?" Diggle asked, looking around the room.

"As I'll ever be," Felicity confirmed.

Chief Michaels walked around the table so she could stand closer to them, her hand on Diggle's back. "I need you three to be my eyes and ears tonight. I'll be occupied most of the time with the politicians and other officials. I want you talking to our own. Catalogue anything that seems unusual. Anyone who looks uncomfortable or shifty. Anyone who spends time talking on their phones. I want to know every small detail."

The other three nodded.

"I need to go now, but you let me know if you find out _anything_." The chief patted Diggle's arm, then made her way towards a small group of older men with white hair who were talking and laughing.

"So how do we want to do this?" Diggle began. "Work our way around the room?"

Before Oliver or Felicity could answer, the lights dimmed, and an announcer let them know it was time to take their seats for dinner. Everyone who had been standing made their way towards their chosen seats. Oliver pulled Felicity's chair out, and she smiled gratefully at him. He and Diggle took their places beside her.

As the salads were being brought out by the servers, a speaker from the state stood in the middle of the dance floor to deliver a speech about how much everyone 'appreciated' the work they did and how 'grateful' the government was to have such highly qualified individuals protecting their cities.

When his speech and the polite applause after had ended, the entrées were brought to their tables. Since everyone was eating at their tables, there was no way to mingle with their coworkers without arousing suspicion. Instead, Oliver, Felicity, and Diggle enjoyed their meal with the others at their table. They told stories about job experiences, joked about some of the funny things they'd seen when on duty, and made small talk about life outside of work.

Felicity was especially good at it. Although she sometimes put her foot in her mouth with her babbling, no one could deny that she had the warmth and kindness to carry a conversation with someone she barely knew with very little difficulty. Oliver, by contrast, mostly watched and listened. He participated when addressed, but he spent more time watching the room for any signs of trouble while he ate. He couldn't help being on edge knowing the woman next to him was target number 1 for a psychotic murderer.

Throughout the meal, he didn't notice anything out of place. No one in the room acted out of the ordinary, and there were no other warning signs that made him any more on edge than he already was.

When dinner ended, the band started playing some light music and much of the crowd migrated to the dance floor while servers came around to clear the tables. When everyone else at their table had either left for the dance floor or to grab a piece of cake for the dessert table, Oliver turned to his partners. "What now? We work our way around the dance floor talking to people? See what we can find?"

Diggle shrugged and put his cloth napkin on the table. "Sounds like as good a plan as any."

The three got up from the table and started walking towards the dance floor. Felicity chatted with Diggle as they walked while Oliver scanned the room for anything out of place. As the night had worn on without incident, the anxiety in the pit of his stomach had grown. If Darhk's people were going to make a move, they were running out of time.

"Oliver!"

All three of them turned around at the voice. It belonged to a tall, dark haired woman wearing a short, black dress that hugged her curves. Her wavy hair cascaded down her back, and her smoky eyeshadow made her eyes look dark and hooded. Oliver recognized her immediately as the woman from the FBI who had approached him about the job offer – although tonight she was showing a lot more leg than she had been then.

The woman approached their group and extended her hand to Felicity and Diggle. "McKenna Hall, FBI," she said pleasantly.

Felicity shook the woman's hand and introduced herself, then threw Oliver an unreadable glance.

"I don't know if Oliver told you, but we met about a week ago and I've made him a once in a lifetime job offer," McKenna continued while Oliver shifted uncomfortably.

"Yeah, he's told us a little bit," Felicity said politely.

McKenna glanced at Felicity, and then turned her attention back to Oliver. "I hope he told you what a great opportunity it would be for him. Plus he'd get to work closely with me." She blinked a few times at him in a way that Oliver clearly recognized as her coming on to him. At one point in his life he would have pounced at her sign of interest, but now it felt wrong to him. Almost exasperating. Dealing with McKenna's flirting wasn't even close to registering on the list of things he needed to worry about tonight. "In fact," McKenna continued, "Do you mind if I steal him for a minute so we can talk about the offer?"

Oliver was about to protest when Felicity spoke up. "Of course. He's all yours."

Oliver whipped his head to look at her in frustration. They had things to do. He didn't want to be wasting time talking to McKenna Hall. The look on Felicity's face betrayed very little of what she was thinking. Diggle seemed to sense Oliver's hesitation, so he put a hand on Felicity's arm. "We'll be on the dance floor, Oliver." His words were accompanied by a nod that told Oliver that he'd look out for Felicity until he got back.

Felicity and Diggle turned and left, and Oliver looked back at McKenna. She smiled at him and reached forward to place her hand on his bicep – thankfully, on the arm that was uninjured. "So that offer, Oliver. I'm going to need to take an answer back to my boss soon. I really think we could make a great team."

Oliver cleared his throat. "I really appreciate the offer but -"

"Stop," she said quickly, stepping closer to him. "You really don't want to turn this down. An offer like this doesn't come around twice in a lifetime."

He stared at her. She was so close that he could feel the heat from her skin seeping towards his body. He could see the definition of her long, dark lashes and the tones of her dark brown eyes. She was a beautiful woman, and he knew he should feel invigorated having her so close to him, but instead he wanted to step back and out of her reach.

"You'll regret it if you say no," she continued, her voice dropping so it was almost husky. "So what do you say? Want to be partners?"

Oliver looked straight at her. "No."

She blinked. "What?"

"I'm turning down the offer, McKenna."

She stepped back and ran her hand through her hair, fluffing it out a bit. "Can I ask why? You'd be a great fit for the FBI."

Oliver nodded. He knew he could do a great job at the FBI, and for so long he thought he wanted it. But not anymore. "I've started to appreciate my place here. I'm not ready to give it up," he responded simply.

McKenna looked over his shoulder to where he assumed Felicity and Diggle were among the crowd on the dance floor. "I see," she said calmly. "Well, you have my number. If you change your mind, give me a call."

Oliver nodded, knowing it wouldn't happen. He'd made his choice and he didn't feel even the ounce of regret he thought he might. When he'd turned down the job he'd only felt relief. McKenna shifted back even more from him awkwardly. She looked around the room as if looking for an escape route. Even though he had only rejected her job offer, Oliver got the feeling he had kind of rejected her personally too.

And he didn't regret either one.

She seemed to notice someone she knew because she smiled at him and wished him well before walking off somewhere to his left.

Oliver ran a hand over his face. He needed to refocus. McKenna had distracted his attention for a few minutes, but the mission remained. He and his partners were trying to find a mole among them. A mole who was in on the plot to threaten Felicity and so many others who were involved in Damien Darhk's case. He needed all his wits about him, and he needed to find his team. Oliver swiveled back towards the dance floor where the band had just started playing a slower song and groups were pairing up.

Oliver didn't see Felicity or Diggle at first. The lights in the ballroom had been dimmed, and select spotlights were roaming casually around the dance floor to create a more intimate atmosphere. It also made it a lot harder for Oliver to spot his team from halfway across the room.

As he got closer, he finally noticed Diggle dancing with an older woman with a tuft of white hair on her head. Digg was laughing at whatever joke she was telling and acting charming. What the hell? He was supposed to be watching Felicity.

When Oliver changed course so he could head towards Diggle to demand to know where Felicity was and why Digg wasn't right next to her, his friend caught his eye. Digg seemed to read Oliver's mood on his face because he smirked and tilted his head to his right. Oliver followed the direction of Digg's head tilt and saw Felicity dancing easily with Cooper Seldon. Felicity's hands were on Seldon's shoulders, and Seldon's hands were a little too low on her back to be strictly professional.

As he watched, Felicity threw her head back and laughed at whatever Cooper had said to her.

Oliver didn't like it.

They were supposed to be working a case here, not flirting with coworkers.

Feeling irritation claw its way through his veins, Oliver set his jaw and made his way towards the dancing duo. When he got close enough to hear bits of their conversation – which was apparently about some kind of new computer chip that had just come out – Oliver cleared his throat. "Can I cut in?"

"Oliver," Felicity greeted with a wide smile, dropping her hands from Cooper's neck. Seldon didn't look as happy to see him.

"Can't you just wait until the song is over?" Cooper answered, not taking his hands off of Felicity's waist.

"No," Oliver gritted out through a fake smile. Felicity raised her eyebrows and her lips twitched. Cooper huffed and dropped his hands.

"Whatever. See you later, Felicity," he grumbled before disappearing.

Oliver wasted no time stepping into the space Cooper had vacated and placing his hands on Felicity's hips. Her hands automatically reached up and wound around his neck like they were made to go there as they started to sway to the music. "You looked like you were having fun with Seldon," Oliver started, looking around them to get a feel for his surroundings.

"He knows some good jokes about processing systems," she answered in a measured voice. "How did things go with McKenna? You didn't tell me she was so beautiful."

Oliver looked at her then and saw she was avoiding his gaze. "Are you jealous?" he teased.

Her eyes cut to his. "Are you?" she challenged.

Oliver stared at her defiant blue eyes as they swayed to the music. There was so much more swirling beneath the surface of her eyes than there had been in McKenna's. So much going on in her big, beautiful brain at all times. So much that surprised him, made him laugh, and endeared him. Had he been jealous of Seldon? Was jealousy that feeling he had where he wanted to rip Cooper's hands off for touching her? Was it jealousy that made him want to be the one making her laugh?

Felicity held his gaze and raised her eyebrows, challenging him to answer her question.

"I turned down the job," Oliver stated.

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh. Is that what you wanted?"

"It was," he confirmed, moving his hand on her back so she'd step a little closer. Their bodies were separated by mere inches, and her breath was now fanning across his collarbone as she looked up at him. There was something there in her eyes now that wasn't before.

"Well, I'm glad then," she whispered. "You deserve to be happy."

Oliver's throat felt thick. Such a simple statement, but one he hadn't heard in years, maybe even decades. Maybe he deserved happiness as much as any other human being, but what had he done to deserve having her in his life? Whatever he'd done in a previous life to be rewarded with having this beautiful, strong, kind woman in his arms right now must have been next to saintly. He wasn't sure what to say to her or how to communicate that to her. How could he even begin to express the foreign emotion that came over him when she'd said that to him and looked at him like he was some sort of superhero?

Before he had a chance to try, her phone rang.

Felicity reluctantly stepped back from him enough to open the clutch that she'd hung by the strap around her wrist so that she could keep her phone with her (something he'd demanded she do all night tonight when they'd been driving towards the event center). She pressed the phone to her ear and held a hand over her other ear to try to focus on the voice on the other end of the line. "Hello?"

Oliver watched her face as she listened to the caller.

"Yes, this is she," she said loudly, trying to make sure her voice was heard over the band's music.

The caller started speaking again and Felicity listened. A few seconds into the call, Felicity's face paled and she looked at Oliver in alarm. Oliver's heart started pumping painfully in his chest, and he resisted the urge to reach out and take the phone from her so he could hear what was being said that was making her look like that.

"You're sure?" she asked into the phone. Oliver stepped closer to her and put his hand on her elbow as a silent reminder that he was there and he wouldn't let anything happen to her. He looked around wildly, trying to look for any possible threat in case that's what the call was about. "Thank you," she said in a shaky voice and then hung up the phone.

"Who was that? What did they say?" Oliver demanded, taking her hand in his when he noticed it shaking.

"That was the Department of Transportation," Felicity said so quietly that he almost didn't hear her. "They finally called back about who from the department had ordered the traffic camera disabled that day."

Oliver felt his stomach lurch and his veins turn to fire as they filled with adrenaline. "Who?"

She met his eyes and swallowed. "Cooper Seldon."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

 **8:42 PM; Hour 35**

Oliver could hear his own heart pounding in his ear as she walked with his arm around Felicity's waist, securing her to his side, in search of Diggle and Chief Michaels.

Cooper Seldon had ordered the cameras be turned off at the end of the street where the crime scene was.

Cooper Seldon was the mole.

Cooper Seldon who had been dancing with Felicity only minutes ago.

The need to take Felicity home where she was safe warred with the need to catch Seldon and put an end to all of this. Before he could do either, they had to find Diggle and Chief Michaels. They needed to know what was going on so they could help find Cooper.

Oliver caught sight of Diggle on the fringe of the dance floor, and made his way through the crowd towards him with Felicity. Diggle must have assumed something was wrong by the look on Oliver's face, because he frowned when he caught sight of them and stepped their way to meet them.

"What's going on?" Diggle demanded in a low voice, putting a steady hand on Felicity's other shoulder.

"It's Seldon," Oliver growled, letting his head swivel around in hopes of catching sight of the bastard.

"What?"

"Cooper was the one who told the Department of Transportation to have the traffic camera disabled yesterday," Felicity said. She was a hell of a lot calmer than Oliver was, and Oliver wasn't sure what to make of that. "He's the mole," she continued, her voice dropping so it was almost inaudible over the band's music.

"My God," Diggle swore, dragging a hand over his face. "He's here tonight."

"I know. He had his fucking hands on her when he was dancing with her," Oliver seethed, his body practically vibrating with angry energy. That son of a bitch better hope someone else found him first to arrest him because Oliver wasn't at all sure he'd be able to take him in alive.

"Oliver, calm down," Felicity said so quietly that probably no one else would be able to hear. She ran her hand over the tense muscles of his back.

"Do you know where he went?" Diggle questioned urgently, pulling out his phone and typing a message to someone Oliver assumed was the Chief. "We need to find him. Now."

"He walked off maybe 5 minutes ago," Oliver seethed. "God knows where he is now, but when I find him -"

"I think Oliver and I should go," Felicity said hurriedly.

"What?" Oliver demanded.

"In a matter of minutes this entire group will be turned into a search party for Cooper," Felicity explained. "They'll be fine without us."

"You can't be serious," Oliver protested, dumbfounded. _She_ was telling him they should sit this one out? The same woman who fought him tooth and nail every time he suggested she stay behind for her own safety?

"You and I both know that you shouldn't be involved in this search," she argued. "You're too emotional."

"I don't get emotional!" Oliver barked. She raised her eyebrows incredulously.

"I'm with Felicity on this." Oliver turned to see Diggle eying him warily. "You're too worked up. You need to step back or you're going to blow this."

Oliver groaned and ran a hand over his face. Of course he was fucking worked up! Darhk had one of their own, someone they'd _trusted_ , working to sabotage them. Seldon was responsible for the threats on Felicity's life. How could he not be 'worked up'?

Felicity put her hand on his bicep. "Our only advantage right now is that he doesn't know we're onto him," she said quietly. "He'll disappear if he gets even a hint – like if he sees the steam currently coming out of your ears." Oliver opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. "You can't think clearly on this, and to be honest, I'm not sure I can either." Oliver snapped his mouth shut and searched her face. Her voice was so calm and level, but when he looked closer, he could see the tension around her eyes and the firm set of her mouth.

Felicity was just as upset as he was. And that made him want to murder Cooper all over again.

She held his gaze, her eyes beseeching. "We'll be more help if we monitor from your place. I've already got my tablet set up. We can get into all the nearest cameras and track him that way while everyone else searches from the ground."

Oliver felt her hand on his good arm squeeze slightly, prompting him to say something. She was right. Of course she was. But that didn't make it any easier to remove himself from this for right now.

"Oliver, you need to go," Diggle confirmed quietly. "Even if you weren't so visibly angry, we'd need to get Felicity out of here. Who knows what Cooper has set up."

Digg's words sent ice crawling down his spine. He grabbed Felicity's hand from his arm, clasped it in his own, and nodded. Begrudgingly, he admitted, "Fine. Felicity and I will head back to my place and start the search there. Once we're clear you can make the announcement here to start looking."

Diggle nodded, his shoulders slumping slightly in relief. Felicity smiled tightly, pleased he'd agreed with the plan but still unsettled about the ordeal.

"I'll get Lyla. You two, _go_ ," Digg asserted. He nodded to them both once, then disappeared hastily through the crowd.

Oliver knew he needed to get Felicity away from here before Cooper realized his cover was blown, so he tugged on her hand and led her through the crowd and towards the front door. They waited together impatiently at the coat check for their coats to be retrieved, then stepped outside into the cold evening air. Oliver hastily handed his valet ticket to the attendant, who sent a young man to get the SUV.

Felicity rubbed her gloved hands together next to him in an attempt to fight off the cold January chill. He reached out to put his arm around her shoulder and pull her into his side. She smiled a little and looked up at him.

"You're not supposed to be using this arm," she chided.

He shrugged slightly, keeping his eyes swiveling around them for Seldon or anything else that looked out of place. He was getting Felicity the hell away from here, but a part of him hoped they'd run into Seldon first. Adrenaline thrummed through his veins at the thought of hitting his rat-like face and slapping cuffs on his snitch-like wrists.

"When we get back, I want to set up my facial recognition software on all security and traffic cameras that are linked to an online network," Felicity said, her eyes also searching around them carefully. Alert. "Chief Michaels probably will have issued an APB by then, so it won't even be illegal."

Oliver's lips twitched. "And if she hasn't, you'll still do it?"

"That depends. Will you turn me in if I do?"

Oliver glanced at her, "You know I'm not a boy scout like Palmer is."

She pursed her lips together to try to keep from smiling and lightly elbowed him in the side.

They stood together in the quiet night after that – their breaths creating small white puffs in the cold air. The only sounds around them were the cars passing on the street in front of them and the dull noise of music and chatter coming from inside the convention center. Oliver didn't see anyone walking on the street or any movement in the windows in the building across the street. Everything seemed to be perfectly calm and normal.

Which unsettled him.

"Oliver?" Felicity asked quietly, a shiver running up her spine. "If Cooper was going to make a move, it would be tonight, don't you think?"

Oliver's jaw tensed, and he tightened his arm around her back to pull her closer into him. "We don't know that."

"Yeah I guess," Felicity sighed, not sounding convinced. Oliver wasn't convinced either. Cooper was aware of all the progress they'd made. He had to know that they were closing in, and tonight, when everyone was preoccupied, would be the perfect time to strike. Nothing had happened yet, but that didn't mean they could let their guard down. Tonight was Cooper's perfect window.

Moments later, the familiar strum of the SUV's engine could be heard, and the car turned around the corner. The headlights sliced through the fresh darkness of the evening as the valet attendant pulled it into the loading zone right in front of the sidewalk. The young man hopped out of the car and circled around to hand the ticket back to Oliver.

"Here you go, man," the tall, skinny boy said.

Oliver nodded and took the ticket. "Thanks."

Felicity detached from his side and stepped towards the passenger door. Oliver pocketed the ticket.

"Hey you might want to get this car checked out by the way," the attendant called with a shrug.

Oliver froze and saw Felicity do the same in his peripheral vision.

"Why?" Oliver demanded, stepping towards the young man – who took a step back, a nervous look crossing his face. "What's wrong with it?"

"Woah chill!" The boy threw his hands up defensively. "I don't know. It was just making a weird noise. Probably nothing."

Felicity stepped back and started critically assessing the SUV, walking slowly towards the back and looking at it from top to bottom.

"I need some specifics," Oliver said seriously, stepping closer to the boy. "What kind of sound?"

The young man huffed. "I don't know. Like a grinding noise or something. I only heard it a few times. I thought maybe it was the brakes."

Oliver's mind ran a mile a minute. "You're _sure_ you heard it? Did it drive ok?"

"I'm sure. Look, I wasn't trying to upset you -"

"I'm not upset," Oliver growled. "I just need some specifics so I can make sure this vehicle is safe to drive."

"It was driving fine," the young man assured him. "I just thought you should know so you could have a mechanic check it out soon or something. No big deal -"

"Oliver!"

Oliver whipped around at the sound of Felicity's panicked yell, only to be met by her small body barreling into his. She knocked them both off balance just as an explosion of heat and glass and energy tore through the stillness and threw them both to the ground. Oliver's wounded arm screamed in pain as he slammed against the sidewalk and skidded a few inches – the cold rough surface scraping the skin of his hand and wrist. A strange mixture of heat warred with the cold air of the night against his skin, blocked mostly by Felicity who had landed almost on top of him – her hair falling free in wisps and lying across his neck and face.

Oh God.

The pain in his arm barely registered as he quickly shifted them both over so that he was lying on top of her, covering her body with his and her face with his arms. Tiny glass pieces rained down around them like hail, and Oliver felt Felicity's hands fist in the front of his jacket, trying to pull him closer.

Seconds later, the clinking of the glass pieces against the pavement stopped. Oliver's ears were ringing so loudly that he could barely make out the wailing of nearby car alarms, the roar of a fire somewhere close, or the shouts of his friends and coworkers as they ran out of the convention center to see what was going on. He pulled back slightly, desperate to see Felicity and that she was ok.

His dazed eyes looked at her and his trembling hand reached up to wipe some of her hair away from her face. She was biting her lip and her eyes were squeezed shut. He could feel her shaking under his body.

"Felicity," he rasped, begging her with his voice to look at him.

Her eyes opened slightly, looking just as dazed as he felt, but he saw something else there too.

Pain.

Oh God. Oh God.

Hands gripped his arms and pulled him up and over. Away from her.

He protested, and voices he couldn't understand responded.

He was on his back, lights shining in his eyes and voices asking him dumb questions.

Someone told him to follow the light they were shoving in his face, and he hastily shoved the arm away and tried to sit up. "Felicity!" he called, his voice sounding muffled as if there were cotton balls stuck in his own ears.

The voices near him protested and forced him to lie back down.

More sirens wailing. Getting closer and louder.

The SUV was on fire. Charred and missing all windows.

Officers in their nicest outfits rushed around on phones, hovering around in groups. Around evidence? Around people? Around Felicity?

"Let me up!" Oliver demanded, some of his senses starting to return to normal.

"Oliver, they need to check you," Diggle, whose arm was the one applying pressure to his good shoulder to keep him in place.

Oliver struggled against him. "Felicity -"

"They're checking her too," Diggle answered, applying more pressure to keep Oliver from moving. Oliver winced as someone he didn't know applied antiseptic to what must have been a cut on the side of his forehead near his ear. "Check his stitches," Diggle demanded. "He took a bullet to the shoulder yesterday morning."

Oliver gritted his teeth as whoever was helping Diggle removed his coat and pulled at the collar of his shirt to get a look at his throbbing shoulder. It felt like someone had just punched his wound with a knife, and Oliver hoped to God he hadn't popped any stitches. He didn't have time to deal with that right now.

"Looks ok. You're one lucky son of a bitch," Diggle laughed humorlessly. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"No. Where's -"

"She's right over there." Diggle pointed to the side of the building where a group of officers were huddled around someone. Through the crowd Oliver caught glimpses of Felicity's golden hair. She was sitting up and leaning against the building's bricks. He let out a deep breath. She was sitting up. That was good, right?

Oliver groaned as he sat up.

"Woah, take it easy, man," Diggle urged, putting an arm around Oliver's back to help him up. "You probably hit your head when you went down."

"I'm fine," Oliver gritted out, wincing as he supported himself on his injured arm and stood up. Diggle eyed him doubtfully, but Oliver kept his eyes fixed on the pieces of Felicity he could see through the crowd. He staggered towards her, officers staring at him in concern as they moved out of his way.

As he approached, he saw Felicity's coat discarded on the pavement. His stomach knotted and he tried to focus on getting to her. The scrapes on the outside of his palm were burning – screaming for attention – but he ignored it. He needed to get to her.

Ray Palmer appeared in front of him. "Oliver, thank God you're ok too!"

 _Too_. Oliver tried not to let his breathing stop in hope. "Felicity?"

Ray nodded. "She's going to be fine," Ray assured him, stepping to the side so Oliver could finally see her. She was sitting against the outside wall of the convention center. One paramedic was dabbing at a few small cuts on her face, and another was dabbing some kind of cream onto her arm which looked red and angry. Oliver's heart sped up as he stepped towards her and whispered her name.

Her eyes, red-rimmed and still a little dazed, snapped to his. "Oliver," she gasped. Oliver gently knelt down beside her and took her hand while the paramedics worked. "Are you ok?" Her voice sounded thick and he could see her eyes starting to fog over with emotion. "I thought -"

"Hey," he reached out and ran a finger down her cheek, which was covered in a light sheen of dirt and ash. He assumed his own face looked the same. "I'm fine. How are you?"

Felicity nodded, her lip trembling. "I'm fine."

Oliver looked to the nearest paramedic with raised eyebrows.

"The blast burned through her coat sleeve," the woman recited. "Second degree burns on her forearm, but they don't look too deep. Should heal itself in a couple weeks. Other than that, a few minor cuts and scrapes."

Oliver looked at Felicity with wide eyes, drinking in her face and thanking whatever higher power might exist out there that she'd been so lucky.

"See? I'm fine," she whispered, staring at him much the same way he was staring at her.

She was okay. They were both okay.

"Sir, I need you to come with me so we can check you with the concussion protocol," a deep-voiced paramedic said, placing a gentle hand on Oliver's good shoulder.

Oliver shook his head and squeezed Felicity's hand more tightly. "I'm not leaving her."

"It's ok, Oliver. Go with them and get checked," Felicity said. She winced and snapped her eyes closed as the paramedic near her smeared some kind of cream along the red burn on her forearm. Oliver's jaw tensed. Like hell he was leaving.

"No," he ground out.

The man beside him sighed and looked at Felicity's paramedic. Oliver kept his eyes on Felicity, relaxing only when the sting seemed to pass and her eyes opened again. Felicity's paramedic looked between them and then nodded her head. "Ms. Smoak, we should probably check you for a concussion as well. Do you think you can stand?"

Oliver wanted to protest when Felicity nodded and started shifting to stand, but he found himself biting his tongue and putting a hand on her back to support her instead. She wobbled a little as she stood, but Oliver and the other paramedic caught her. She looked down, her brows furrowed, then she chuckled a little breathlessly. "I think one of my heels is broken."

Oliver looked down and saw that, indeed, one of her shoes was missing the heel part, so one of her legs was bent to try to help her maintain her balance.

Felicity looked over at him with a small smile. "I've always wondered what it would be like to have a heel break like in the movies."

Oliver felt his mouth drop open slightly as he watched her. She was joking? She had almost died just now, and she was _joking_ about her _shoes_? His throat felt thick and his arms trembled with the need to pull her into his arms and never let anyone or anything that could hurt her come near her again.

Felicity saw his face and still smiled. "Lighten up, Oliver. Everyone's fine. You have to admit my heel breaking is a little funny."

"No it's not," he responded darkly. She smiled patiently and shook her head at him.

Oliver, Felicity, and the paramedics made their way over to a nearby ambulance. Oliver and Felicity were instructed to sit side by side in the back of the emergency vehicles and the paramedics worked to finish testing them. Oliver did as he was instructed and followed the lights, covered his eyes one at a time to read posters on the wall, and let the medic feel around his head for knots. He was pleased that Felicity was passing all the same tests as him with no difficulty.

When the paramedics cleared them both of suspected head injuries, they finished cleaning the scrapes on their skin and bandaging Felicity's burned forearm. Oliver and Felicity listened patiently to the instructions about concussion symptoms in case they arose, how to clean their minor cuts and scrapes to prevent scarring, and how to care for Felicity's burn as it healed.

After what felt like an eternity, the paramedics finally released them after determining – miraculously – that neither had injuries severe enough to require a hospital stay. While they waited for the EMTs to finish the appropriate paperwork, Oliver shrugged out of his coat and hung it loosely over Felicity's shoulders. Her coat had been ruined when the blast burned through one of the arms, and she'd started to shiver in the cold January night air – her exposed arms erupting in goosebumps. She smiled at him in thanks.

Diggle and Chief Michaels approached them, both wearing serious expressions. Chief Michaels spoke first. "How are you both? The medics said you both managed to escape with only some minor scrapes and burns – thank God."

"We're fine," Felicity assured. "What about everyone else?"

Chief Michaels crossed her arms and looked around. "This was clearly set up by Darhk and Officer Seldon. I've sent almost the entire department out looking for Seldon, but we haven't found him yet."

Oliver clenched his fist beside him. When he found that piece of shit he was going to –

"What can we do?" Felicity offered, shifting to hop down from her spot in the back of the ambulance. Oliver made a sound of protest and reached out for her, but she just threw him a look. Because of her broken shoe, the medics had removed both of her heels and given her some socks they kept on hand for patients with poor circulation.

"You can go home and rest," Chief Michaels said sternly, making Felicity frown and look to Oliver and then back at her boss. "I mean it. You two have done your work. You've gotten us the evidence we need, you've identified the mole, and you've put your lives on the line. Now you need to take care of yourselves and let us find Seldon."

Oliver cleared his throat. "With all due respect, Chief, I think Felicity and I would like to be involved in Seldon's arrest." He saw Felicity nod next to him.

Chief Michaels looked at him and sighed. "I know you would. But trust me when I tell you that after the events of tonight, the best way you can help is by resting, staying home, and staying safe. We can handle the search at least until morning without you."

Oliver scrubbed a hand over his face. If he was completely honest, he felt like shit. His muscles ached down to the bone, he felt a little sluggish with exhaustion, and his clothes and skin both needed a good scrubbing to rid them of the dirt and grime that had baked on in the explosion. He knew the chief was right, but the thought of turning this over to his coworkers – of having no hand in Cooper being brought down – had his fingers twitching in agitation.

"Oliver, I was hoping maybe you'd be gracious enough to let Felicity stay with you again," Chief Michaels said, her face all business and showing no hint of chagrin at the borderline inappropriate request she was making. "We need all available officers out looking for Cooper, and I know you've said your apartment is safe. We'd have to have less officers on protective watch tonight if you two are in the same place."

"Of course," Oliver supplied quickly, a little surprised that it would even be a question that Felicity would stay with him. It wasn't a question, was it? He looked at Felicity, hopeful this wouldn't be another argument. She smiled at him and mouthed 'thanks,' and Oliver's shoulders relaxed in relief.

"It's settled then," Chief Michaels stated. "You two will head home and get some rest. We'll update you in the morning after we've hopefully brought Officer Seldon in and resolved this whole thing."

Chief Michaels's phone rang then, and she placed a hand on Felicity's shoulder kindly before nodding and turning away to answer. She walked off before Oliver had a chance to hear anything she was saying. Diggle remained behind, watching them with his arms crossed.

"I guess we should go then?" Felicity asked hesitantly, looking between them.

"Ms. Smoak, can you come with me for a second?" one of the EMTs called suddenly. "I want to get you some more bandages to take home for your burn."

Felicity nodded and squeezed Oliver's hand before following the medic. Oliver watched her go, ignoring the tension that formed in the pit of his stomach when she was out of arm's reach.

"She'll be ok. Our people are everywhere," Diggle assured him quietly, seeming to read his thoughts like they were written across his forehead.

Oliver took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. "We got lucky, Digg. So lucky."

"Don't I know it," Digg confirmed, his voice low. "The son of a bitch had the bomb tucked up by the brakes on the back left tire – assuming you wouldn't notice and that Felicity wouldn't have a reason to walk past that side and notice either."

"She did notice," Oliver said shakily, watching Felicity talk to the medic over at the other ambulance parked about twenty feet away. "The valet attendant – oh shit, that kid! Is he ok?"

"He's fine," Diggle assured him. "The blast threw him into the valet booth which sheltered him from all the debris."

Oliver nodded in relief. "That kid told me something sounded off when he was driving the car. Felicity walked around the back and must have seen it. She knocked me to the ground and that's why –" Oliver's voice cracked and his throat tightened. He remembered the heat against his clothes and skin, the smell of the burning rubber and metal, the prickle of the glass pieces as they showered down around them. He remembered the angry red blotches all over Felicity's arm, the cuts on her face, her shoe that had been blown in half by the blast.

"She's ok, Oliver," Diggle interrupted his thoughts solemnly. "You both did good."

"She's not ok," Oliver rasped. "Her arm -"

"Will heal."

Oliver shook his head, trying to swallow the pain he felt in his tightening throat.

"It's lucky you were both outside the car. If you'd been in it already, you'd both be dead."

Oliver's body suddenly felt like it weighed ten tons. They'd been lucky. _She'd_ been lucky. So so lucky. If he'd been standing about two feet closer to the SUV he'd most likely be facing a Felicity-less world right now. The thought had his stomach revolting and his lungs screaming in pain as he tried to keep his breathing normal and not let the emotions of the "what ifs" overtake him.

Diggle noticed his struggle and stepped closer so he could put a hand on Oliver's shoulder. "We'll get Seldon, man. We'll get him and everything will go back to normal. She'll be safe."

Oliver nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He let his eyes wonder back to Felicity, who was smiling and nodding in response to whatever the EMT was saying to her.

They'd had a close call tonight, but they were closer than ever to ending all of it. He just had to make sure she stayed safe until they could catch Cooper and make sure Darhk didn't have anything else up his sleeve.

Then everything could go back to normal. No more keeping her within arm's reach all the time. No more arguing about whether or not it was safe for her to go somewhere. No more having her stay at his house.

Oliver guessed that the adrenaline of the night was playing games with his mind because the thoughts didn't ease his worries. Instead, they left him with a dark, hollow feeling in the center of his chest.

Felicity walked back towards them carrying a plastic bag full of bandages and wearing a calm smile. God, she'd almost been blown to bits and still she was smiling.

"You guys ready? I'm guessing Digg is driving us home since he's still loitering here instead of joining the search party," she teased. Diggle snorted and nodded. Felicity looked at Oliver, her smiled faltering slightly at the serious look on his face. Instead of saying anything, she looped her bandaged arm through his and tugged him forward slightly. "Come on, let's go. Chief Michaels was right. We need rest."

He couldn't argue. As he fell into step beside Felicity and slightly behind Digg, his mind raced with the events of the night and the events to come. He couldn't let himself worry about what came after the case until the case was closed. Right now, no matter how tired he was, his priority had to be keeping the woman next to him alive until the rat who'd tried to kill them was caught, and with almost the entire department out looking for him, there was no way Cooper could elude them for long.

One night. It was almost impossible Cooper would make it more than one night on the run.

They had to make it through tonight, then it would all be over.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

 **10:20 PM; Hour 36**

Diggle drove Oliver and Felicity back to Oliver's apartment building in his police cruiser. Felicity sat up front while Oliver sat in the back behind the cage – something Felicity made more than one joke about. She'd had a rough night, so Oliver let her get her laughs in where she could. When Diggle joined in on the jabs though, Oliver couldn't restrain the glare he sent his partner through his reflection in the rearview mirror, to which Diggle only laughed and smirked knowingly.

During the drive, Oliver noticed Felicity shifting in her seat and watched her try her best to casually rotate the heat vent so that it pointed away from her side instead of right at her. The heat must have been hitting her burned arm.

Oliver felt the urge to find Cooper Seldon and tear his fingers off one at a time.

But he couldn't do that, so he did the only thing he could do to try to alleviate any of Felicity's pain. "Hey Digg, can you turn the heat down? It's a little warm in here."

Diggle looked at Oliver in the rearview mirror like he was seeing a three headed dog. "It's fourteen degrees outside," Diggle argued. "How can you possibly be hot?"

"Maybe's it's fourteen degrees outside, but it's about four hundred in here. Just turn it down a little?" Oliver stared at his friend's narrowed eyes, hoping he'd just do what he asked. Diggle huffed and rolled his eyes before reaching over to dial back the heat. Oliver saw Felicity fighting a smile.

A few minutes later, Digg pulled up in front of Oliver's building. He turned to look from Felicity to Oliver. "You two stay here. I'm going to go talk to the doorman and make sure no one unknown has been in or out."

Oliver started, "I can go with you –"

"Stay," Diggle commanded before exiting the car and closing the door behind him.

Oliver shook his head and huffed a little. Sure this car was bulletproof and had already been sniffed for explosives so it was about as safe as safe could get, but Oliver hated being sidelined. He looked over at Felicity, who was biting her lip slightly. "Hey, are you ok? How's your arm?"

She shifted so that she was looking at him through the metal wiring that separated the front seats from the back seats. "I'm ok. I can't wait to change out of these singed clothes though," she joked.

Oliver nodded in agreement, noting the way the skin of her face and neck had a light coat of dark dirt and ash covering it. The only areas that were clean were the two small cuts – one on her cheek and one on her neck – that the paramedics had cleaned and applied an antiseptic to.

"I can't wait to take these contacts out too. They're so dry," she complained lightly.

"Can you see without them?" Oliver wondered.

She laughed. "Yes, I can see. I just can't see close up very well. I guess staring at computer screens nonstop since I was a child had that side effect."

Oliver froze, struck by a sudden thought. "Your glasses are at your place."

Felicity sighed. "I know. I thought maybe I'd take an Uber in the morning -"

"Not by yourself."

She looked at him curiously. "I mean, I guess if you really want to come with me to pick up my glasses and a change of clothes, you can."

"Good."

Her lips twitched, but she didn't look angry. That was good at least. They'd come a long way in the past two days.

Diggle knocked on the window, drawing their attention to him. He opened the door. "All clear. Doorman says only known residents have entered and left all day."

"Great. Never a doubt. The security here is tight," Felicity chirped, opening her door. "Have you _seen_ Oliver's building, Digg? The elevator has a _fingerprint scanner_."

Diggle chuckled and opened the back door to let Oliver out. "I've seen it once or twice. Who knew Oliver had such expensive taste?"

Oliver threw his friend a look, and Diggle smirked in return.

"Well, expensive or not, it's amazing," Felicity stated, her eyes taking on a dreamy look as she glanced at the building. Oliver really did need to remember to talk to his landlord about any upcoming vacancies. This building would be a perfect fit for her, and by the look on her face he could tell she wasn't kidding about wanting to live there.

Felicity walked around the front of the car to meet them, and Oliver automatically put his hand on her back. She looked up at him and smiled tentatively. She was still wearing his coat over her shoulders – careful to leave her injured arm out of the arm hole – and only a pair of socks on her feet. When the cold wind blew, Oliver was acutely aware that she must be freezing.

"Let's get inside," he suggested, leading the group through the front door of the building. Warm air and ambient lobby music greeted them when they entered. "You coming up, Digg?" he questioned as he and Felicity stepped towards the elevator.

Diggle made no move to follow them. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that."

Oliver and Felicity paused and stared at their friend.

Diggle shifted. "I am your protective detail for the night. Lyla said we could work out among ourselves whether I need to stay here at the building or not."

Oliver understood exactly what Digg meant. Either Diggle could stay at the building on the lookout for a threat that might never come, or he could join the search for Seldon – a search where his expertise could be invaluable. "Go," Oliver supplied automatically.

"You should join the search," Felicity echoed.

Diggle looked conflicted, but there was no mistaking the way his shoulders sagged in relief. "Are you both sure about that? I can stay and keep watch. If anything happens -"

"If anything happens, we'll call you," Oliver assured him.

"Oliver's building is probably the safest one in the entire city," Felicity confirmed. "We'll be fine here. You're a brilliant detective, John. Your talents would be wasted sitting here all night."

Diggle looked down then back up at them. "It's not that I don't want to watch out for you. I just really want to catch this son of a bitch after what he did."

"We know," Felicity assured him softly, stepping forward to put her hand on his arm. "We understand. You should join the search."

Diggle reached out and pulled Felicity into a hug, careful to avoid touching her bandaged arm. Oliver watched him press a light kiss to Felicity's head. "I'm so glad you guys are ok."

Felicity nodded, hugging him back.

"I'll let you guys know if we find anything. And Oliver, I swear to God if you so much as hear a floorboard creak I want to know about it." Diggle released Felicity and looked pointedly at Oliver who sighed.

"Cooper or anyone else can't get into the elevator or the stairwell without a fingerprint that proves they're a resident here. We'll be fine." Diggle glared at him and Oliver threw up his hands defensively. "But I promise I'll let you know if anything happens."

"Good. Then we're in agreement." Diggle looked back at Felicity. "Felicity, you make sure he keeps up his end of this deal."

She smiled. "Got it. I'll shoot you a text every time the wind whistles through the windows."

"My windows are brand new. They don't do that," Oliver grumbled under his breath.

"That's my girl," Diggle beamed. He gave Felicity's shoulder one last squeeze and then reached forward to shake Oliver's hand. "With any luck, this will all be over in the morning."

"One can hope," Felicity said.

"Take care," Oliver said to his partner. Diggle nodded, and then turned and disappeared out the front door.

Oliver and Felicity turned back towards the elevator. Oliver scanned his thumb and the door dinged open.

"Oliver, you don't think Cooper has anything else planned, do you?" Felicity asked, biting on her lower lip as she entered the elevator. He stood next to her and pressed the button for his floor.

"I doubt it." All the indications they had were that Darhk had arranged for a small amount of explosive material to be purchased. That coincided with the bomb that went off in the SUV. The loose ends were all being tied up, and all that was left was to catch Cooper Seldon.

"I just don't want Digg or the chief or anyone else to get hurt," she said quietly. She looked away from him, her eyes showing her mind was far away on her friends who were in the field looking for the psycho who had tried to blow her up. Oliver shifted closer to her so that their shoulders touched.

"He'll be ok," he assured her quietly. "Digg is the best there is."

"I know," she replied, nodding as if to assure herself.

When the elevator door dinged open, they walked together to his front door and he unlocked it, holding his arm out to keep her back so he could step in first. She pursed her lips, clearly unamused by his extra caution, but he wasn't taking any chances tonight. Not after everything that had happened.

He flipped on the lights and saw everything exactly as they'd left it. Felicity's tablet set up at the kitchen island, the spaghetti sauce pot still soaking in the sink, the dishwasher sporting a green light to show it was finished washing their lunch plates. When he turned the lights on, the electric fireplace in front of the couch flickered to life, casting a warm glow against the brown leathers and dark hardwoods.

Felicity sighed and shrugged out of his coat. She hung it on the back of a barstool, then turned towards him hesitantly, her fingers fiddling with the material of her dress. In the light, Oliver noticed for the first time that the dress was ripped on the side up to her knee and had dark splotches of dirt and ash all over it. "So… do you mind if I shower? I don't really want to track all this dirt around your place."

His eyes snapped to hers. Images of her scrubbing her skin with soap bombarded his mind. Water dripping from the tips of her nose and eyelashes. Shampoo sliding down the curve of her back as the water rinsed through her hair.

Fuck.

He cleared his throat and shifted. "Yeah, uh… I don't know how clean the shower in the guest bathroom is. You can use my shower though – there's soap and shampoo in there."

She nodded, her fingers still fiddling with her dress. "You don't mind?"

God no.

"No, uh, nope. It's fine. I'll shower once you're finished."

She smiled. "Thanks. I'll just…be a minute."

He nodded and she made her way down the hall towards his room. He stood frozen in place as he heard the door shut behind her and, moments later, the shower turn on. He hoped to God he hadn't left any dirty clothes lying on the floor.

Shaking his head, he scrubbed a hand over his face and moved into the kitchen. Mechanically, he went through the motions of unloading the dishwasher and scrubbing the spaghetti sauce pot clean.

He heard the shower click off just as he was busying himself with wiping down the counters with a soapy rag. A few minutes later, the door creaked open. She appeared around the corner wearing the same t-shirt she'd worn last night, his sweatpants rolled about five times at her waist, and a pair of his socks. Her hair was darker than usual as it cascaded down her back while it dried – curling up already in the places it was drying more quickly. Her skin was scrubbed clean and held a slight pink hue.

She looked beautiful.

"I hope you don't mind that I stole a pair of socks off the top of the pile of clean laundry in your room." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Oliver didn't trust himself to speak. "Also, I remembered pants this time." She smiled bashfully and looked around. "So uh…I think I might do some work on my tablet to unwind. Do you mind if I sit on the couch for a bit?"

Oliver shook his head. "Make yourself at home. I'm going to get a quick shower."

She nodded in acknowledgement as she moved in front of him to grab her tablet off the island. The white bandage on her arm glistened a little in the light.

"Is that waterproof?" he asked, suddenly worried.

Felicity looked down at her arm, her eyebrows drawing together. "Oh, yeah they told me it was, but I don't trust it. I'll probably change the bandage in a few minutes just to be safe."

Oliver swallowed. "Ok, well let me know if you need anything."

She smiled and then continued on her way to the couch. Oliver turned to retreat into his room.

Today had been strange. So strange. He'd woken up with a half-dressed Felicity in his kitchen, he'd almost been shot (again), they'd almost been blown up, and now Felicity was using his shower and snuggling up on his couch. He closed his bedroom door behind him and walked into the adjacent bathroom. He stripped off his button down shirt and suspenders, careful to avoid thinking about the slight steamy condensation that could still be seen at the top of the mirror. He removed his pants, belt, and shoes and deposited them next to the dirty clothes hamper by the sink.

He reached in to turn the shower on, ignoring the water droplets already sliding down the white tiles. He didn't need the thoughts they would bring.

When he'd rid himself of his remaining clothing, he stepped under the warm spray. He sighed as he felt his tensed muscles instantly relax under the hot water. He made quick work of scrubbing soap over his skin and watching the dark remnants of the blast seep off and down the drain. He was careful to not saturate the bandage on his shoulder, knowing he'd have to change it after showering but trying to keep the wound from getting wet anyway.

When he'd finished showering and changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants, he made his way back out to the living area to check on Felicity. He hadn't been in the shower for more than fifteen minutes, and he hoped she was still up.

She was. She was sitting on the couch with her legs crossed, the TV on and playing images from the scene at the convention center on loop. Oliver walked closer to hear what they were saying and heard the reporters talking about an "unidentified vehicle" blowing up and about how they weren't sure yet if it was accidental or intentional. She looked up at him as he sat down next to her, both of them then watching the broadcast in silence.

The videos from the scene showed the SUV – charred and smoking still – and shattered glass lying all around it, some from the car windows, some from the front windows of the convention center. The reporter continued, interviewing a resident who lived nearby testifying that she'd heard the blast and thought someone had dropped a bomb on the city when she saw the smoke rising from a block over.

Oliver watched the program with mixed emotions. His first instinct was to feel angry. Angry at Cooper Seldon and Damien and Ruvé Darhk for setting out to destroy lives. Angry at himself for not finding how what they were up to sooner. Angry at the media for not letting him forget what had happened tonight.

But beneath that, something more debilitating was brewing. Fear.

The station played a grainy cell phone video of the blast that had been caught in the background of someone's recording. Oliver could see the moment the SUV came to a stop. He could see movement around the back of the SUV that was most likely Felicity working her way around to inspect it. Mere seconds after Felicity disappeared around the back of the vehicle again, he could see the SUV jump off the ground and burst into flames – glass and debris flying outward. Lethal projectiles looking for a victim to claim.

They'd been so close. Too close.

He looked over at Felicity and saw similar emotions painted on her face. Awe at what they'd lived through. Gratitude that they were both okay. Fear that they'd been so close to death without even knowing it.

"I didn't realize it was that big," she said quietly, her eyes not leaving the screen. "When I saw the device I just wanted to get you as far away from it as possible," she mused. "It's a good thing you were standing so far away. If you'd been closer, we probably would have been dead."

Oliver's eyes jerked from the TV and over to her. She was still watching the screen and had one hand holding gingerly over the new bandage on her arm. A dull pain started throbbing right where his heart should be. She had risked her life – gotten hurt – trying to keep him safe.

"You didn't need to do that," he said, his voice gravelly to his own ears.

She looked at him curiously. "Of course I did. I wasn't about to let you get blown to bits, Oliver."

"If you'd just run away you wouldn't be hurt right now."

She sighed and shifted on the couch so she was facing him. "It's a burn that will heal in a few weeks. I can live with it. I couldn't live with you being hurt or worse," she admitted softly. "You'd have done the same thing."

He couldn't deny that. He'd jump in front of a train if he had to just to keep her safe. The depth of the certainty with which he felt that should have surprised him, but it didn't. It felt natural. Like it had been there the whole time just waiting for him to recognize.

"That's what makes a good cop," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned a little closer. He leaned in a little too as if there was a magnetic force pulling him closer to her – just to get close enough that he could bathe in her light and ground himself in her presence. "Someone who cares enough to put others before themselves."

"I don't care about others," Oliver denied automatically, his eyes flickering from her eyes to her lips and then back up. The look in her eyes was knowing. Understanding. She looked at him like he was a glass window pane that she could see right through. It suffocated him. It exhilarated him.

"We both know that's not true."

He stared at her. "You're right. I care about _you_."

Felicity stared right back at him, her face not betraying much, but her eyelids fluttered slightly and her breath caught. "I care about you too," she whispered, taking his hand in hers. They were so close now that he could feel the heat from her body radiating towards him. Her knees brushed against his legs. Her hand seared the skin of his hand in a pleasant way he had no right to feel.

He blinked and he remembered seeing the look of pain in her eyes as she laid on the ground. He remembered being pulled away from her and not being able to see her. He remembered not knowing what was happening, where she was, or if she was even alive. His stomach turned to lead and his hand trembled. He watched her eyes as he lifted a hand to cradle the side of her face, letting his thumb trace gently over the shallow cut on the apple of her cheek.

Letting go of any ideas about what he should or should not do, he leaned forward and let his forehead come to rest against hers. Her eyes fluttered shut and her breaths fanned out against his face. Her skin was as soft as it looked, and feeling the heat from it against his own was like a soothing balm against the disaster of a day they'd endured. He could smell his own soap and shampoo on her skin and hair, and he'd never smelled anything as lovely.

"I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost you," he admitted, so low he couldn't even be sure he'd said it out loud.

Felicity shivered slightly and put a hand against his neck. "I'm not going anywhere," she whispered.

Her words, her closeness, her touch – all soaked through his skin and absorbed right into his soul. Gone were the walls he'd carefully erected to keep his heart safe. Gone were his professional inhibitions that told him to keep a distance. Gone were his worries about what comes next.

He tilted his head forward and pressed his lips against hers.

Softly.

Slowly.

Her lips were soft and warm beneath his, parting slightly when he applied the pressure of his own.

She kissed him back.

Her hand on his neck shifted to the back of his head, curling in the short hair at the nape of his neck. His hand stayed put on the side of her face, urging her to tilt her head slightly so he could kiss her more fully. He pulled her bottom lip between his own just as she kissed his top lip – perfect puzzle pieces falling into place where they'd always been meant to be.

Her mouth was so soft and warm. Kissing her was like nothing he'd ever experienced in his life, and he never wanted it to end. Her tongue danced across his lips and he groaned when she worked her way closer – invading his space in every way. She shifted onto her knees on the couch so that she could get closer to him, and he responded by banding an arm around her back and pulling her flush against him. Their lips never separated.

Oliver kissed her like she was the first drop of sunlight after a long, dark winter. He let her touch and her kisses spark under his skin and push him forward despite the nagging in the back of his mind to stop. To slow down. To think.

He didn't want to stop, or slow down, or think.

He finally knew what he wanted, and it was her.

Felicity smashed her face impossibly closer to his like she was trying to drink him in the way he was doing with her. Their lips and mouths and tongues continued to meld in a way that left him breathless, his brain fuzzy, and his body not entirely sure where he ended and she began. His hand slid under the hem of the too large t-shirt that hung from her body like a circus tent. She gasped when his hand smoothed over the soft skin of her lower back, and it ignited his veins.

He tugged on her bottom lip with his teeth before letting it go and plunging his tongue into her mouth to meet hers. Her fist clenched into his hair short, creating a sinful contrast of pleasure and pain.

He wanted to kiss more of her. He wanted more skin. He wanted –

 _Bing_.

Their phones went off at the exact same moment, effectively plunging them both neck deep in an ice bath. They froze, his hand still beneath her shirt, her lips millimeters from his. Both breathing hard.

Oliver opened his eyes first.

Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were red and swollen. Her deep breaths were raising her chest and shoulders in a way that made him want to sync to her rhythm.

God she was gorgeous.

 _Bing_.

Another text sent to both of them had her eyes jerking open. At the same moment, they realized who might be contacting both of them in the middle of the night. They scrambled to untangle themselves and reach for their phones – both of which had been set on the coffee table.

Oliver unlocked his phone with shaky hands – tremors brought on both by the anxiety of the news they might be getting and the residual adrenaline of Felicity's drug-like kisses.

He had two texts. Both from Diggle.

 _ **We need you both at the precinct. I'm waiting downstairs for you.**_

 _ **ASAP.**_

If the text alert had been a bucket of ice water, this was a polar ice cap.

What the fuck had he been thinking? Their colleagues were out there trying to unravel a murder plot, and he was in here kissing Felicity – someone who had almost been murdered herself multiple times this weekend.

Someone who had been a constant target for the last 36 hours.

Someone who was surely feeling stressed and scared because of it.

Had he taken advantage of that?

He looked at her, fighting the feeling of sickness pooling deep in his gut. He shouldn't have kissed her. He'd been trained to know that a person under extreme stress often had altered mental and emotional processes. They sometimes did things they wouldn't normally do. After the events of the past two days, she was in no condition to be making important changes to any relationship in her life.

Oh God. What if he'd just ruined everything?

What if she regretted this once she'd had time to process?

"It sounds important," Felicity said calmly from beside him, reaching for her purse. "We should probably go."

He studied her, trying not to panic as the guilt he was feeling churned through his stomach. She didn't appear phased. In fact, it looked like she was trying very hard _not_ to react.

She walked towards the door and he scrambled to catch up with her, stumbling to work his shoes onto his feet while he walked.

He caught up to her just outside the elevator. He scanned his thumb and turned to face her. "Felicity, I'm - "

The elevator dinged open, cutting him off. They stepped inside and she looked at him expectantly. He searched her eyes for any sign of regret, but he saw none. In fact, he saw nothing but a mask. Was she hiding her regret to spare his feelings?

"I'm so sorry," he choked out. "I shouldn't have done that. Kissed you like that."

He saw something flicker in her eyes then, but she quickly hid it. Her eyes darted away from his. "It's okay Oliver. I understand." She looked down at her feet and took a breath, then looked back at him with a kind smile. "We'll forget it ever happened."

Oliver would rather have been swallowing acid than listening to her say that.

He didn't want to forget a damn thing.

But she clearly did.

Swallowing the bile that rose in his throat, he nodded. They finished the elevator ride in silence, the uncomfortable air that developed between them piercing his chest in an unfamiliar way.

He'd really, _really_ fucked up this time.

They exited the elevator and crossed the lobby side by side. Oliver couldn't see Digg's car out the front door, but maybe he had to park up the street.

Felicity was the first through the door, and he followed right behind. The blast of cold air was like a slap in the face, and he realized for the first time that they'd both rushed out without grabbing any coats or jackets. Jesus, Felicity didn't even have shoes – only his oversized socks on her small feet.

She caught his eyes staring at her feet and crossed her arms. "I have an extra pair of sneakers in my locker at the precinct," she said. "Where's Digg? I thought he said he was here?"

Oliver glanced up the street and saw nothing. Not even a single car with lights on.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up and his stomach dropped to his knees. Something wasn't right. "Felicity, go back -"

Something hit him in the back of his head so hard he fell to the ground. He heard Felicity scream in alarm as something – a foot? – connected with his side and then the back of his head. His whole body screamed in pain, his vision and hearing going fuzzy. He tried to lift himself up, but his arms gave out as he succumbed to the dizziness and throbbing pain in his head.

The concrete was cold and rough against his hands and face as he laid there, trying to will his body to move but having no success. He saw shapes and colors through his eyelids and wondered how he could be lying on the ground but also flipping around as if he were doing somersaults.

A noise brought him back to semi-consciousness.

A voice.

A familiar voice screaming and calling for him.

He forced his eyes open and saw a small figure with a halo on her head struggling with a larger one. The larger one had his arms around her and was pulling her backwards towards a parked car. The small one was yelling and twisting and crying, but the big one was just too big.

It wasn't right. Angels shouldn't cry.

Oliver tried to get up again. His subconscious telling him he needed to help her like he needed air in his lungs. He lifted himself up by his arms slowly, focusing all his energy on trying to stay conscious.

He heard a car door open, and the angel was stuffed inside.

"Let me go!" she screamed. "Oliver!"

The car door slammed.

No.

"No," he called weakly with what little strength he could muster. "No, stop."

The car turned on and the lights flared, burning his eyes and making him dizzy all over again.

"Don't take her," he begged to no one, pleading for the big figure to let that angel go.

Tires squealed and the car disappeared into the dark night, and with it, Oliver disappeared into unconsciousness.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

 **1:15 AM; Hour 39**

There was something cold and hard on his pillow. Oliver moved his hands to try to remove it, but he could not find the pillow. Instead, his palms scraped against rough frozen concrete. What the fuck? He wasn't in his bed. It was cold, and he was lying on the ground. He forced his eyes open and saw he was outside, lying on the sidewalk facing the street.

What –

His head felt like someone was taking a jackhammer to it as snippets came back to him.

Diggle's text.

Someone jumping him outside.

Felicity screaming for him.

Felicity.

Oliver sat up and pressed a hand to his forehead in an attempt to quell the nauseating pain that pierced through his skull at the movement. Felicity. Where was Felicity?

He slammed his eyes closed and an image came back to him. A man dressed in black and a woman with golden hair struggling as he shoved her into a car and drove off. Oliver wanted to scream and his stomach bottomed out at the memory.

They'd taken her.

They'd taken Felicity and he didn't know when, or where, or if they were hurting her right now.

He couldn't breathe.

He staggered to his feet, taking heaving breaths as he stumbled back inside. Had anyone seen? Was there anyone who could help? He looked at the clock on the wall and saw it was after 1:00 AM. The doorman left at 11:00 – probably just before he and Felicity had gotten the text from Diggle to meet him outside.

Oliver fished around in his pocket with shaky hands for his cell phone. He found Diggle in his contacts and pressed the phone to his ear while he used his free hand to press the heel of his palm against his eye.

"Oliver?"

"Digg." His broken voice sounded strange to his own ears and echoed in the lobby of his apartment building. "They took her."

"What? What are you talking about?"

Oliver's throat burned and his muscles shook in anger and desperation. "Felicity," he choked out. "You texted us to come outside -"

"I never texted you!" Diggle interrupted, sounding as panicked as Oliver felt.

"It was Cooper. It had to have been. He knocked me out and he took her." Oliver gasped for breath, trying to hold in the angry yell that had been building in his chest since the moment he'd opened his eyes and had realized Felicity was gone.

"My God," Diggle cursed. Oliver could hear the siren turning on in the background of the call, and he knew Digg was headed his way. "When did this happen?"

Oliver leaned his free hand against the doorman's desk to support himself. "I don't know. I think about two hours ago."

"Two hours?!" Diggle shouted.

"He knocked me out from behind," Oliver explained, trying not to let his voice shake. "Before I passed out I saw him put her in the back of a car. We have to find her, Digg! God knows what he's doing to her!"

"I'm on my way!" Diggle assured him. "Did you see anything that might help? What kind of car? Which way did they go?"

"I didn't see shit," Oliver ground out. "He fucking hit me in the head knowing I wouldn't be able to stay conscious or see anything." The only reason he knew Felicity hadn't been killed on the spot was because of her screams. The haunting screams that were echoing in the back of his head every time he let his mind rest for a second. The screams he'd rather cut off a limb than ever hear again.

Overcome with anger and panic, the memories of Felicity calling for him and being shoved into the back of the car assaulting him, Oliver lost it. He picked up a potted fern that was sitting on the desk and threw it as hard as he could against the wall. The pot shattered into large shards and dirt spilled against the pristine floor.

"Woah! What was that?!" Diggle yelled, in a panic.

Oliver ignored him and covered his face in frustration.

"Oliver! Answer me, damn it!"

"We have to find her, Digg," Oliver choked out.

Diggle was silent for a moment. The only sounds Oliver could hear were the echoes of his own labored breathing in the grand foyer of his building and the faint background sound of Digg's car's siren through the phone. And in the relative silence, he couldn't turn off Felicity's screams from playing on loop in his head. She'd been scared. She'd been fighting. She'd needed him.

He'd failed.

"We'll get her back, man," Diggle promised solemnly.

Oliver took a few more deep breaths, repeating Digg's words in his mind. _We'll get her back. We'll get her back._ They had to. The alternative wasn't something he could fathom. Swallowing his fear and his desperation, Oliver focused on his anger. He thought about Cooper's hands around Felicity, pulling her into that car. He remembered Cooper dancing with her hours before, knowing his plan all along was to cause her harm. He recalled Cooper weaseling his way into their investigation, and how he was passing that information on to Darhk so they could adapt their plans.

Oliver felt murderous, but it was better than the crushing panic he'd felt initially. The anger could help him.

Pulling himself together, he ran to the stairwell and scanned his thumb to open the door. He raced up the five flights of stairs knowing he could scale them faster than waiting for the elevator, then flew into his apartment. The sight of her tablet lying lonely on the coffee table fanned the flames of his anger even more.

That this sick son of a bitch, this raging lunatic, thought he could just do what he wanted, manipulate them all like puppets on a string, terrorize and kidnap the brightest and best of them all, made Oliver so furious he wanted to strangle someone. Preferably Cooper Seldon.

As Oliver changed his clothes and snapped on his gun holster over his shoulders, Oliver imaged holding Cooper by the throat and squeezing the life out of him. He imagined the way Seldon's eyes would beg for mercy. He envisioned how the bastard would use the last of his fleeing strength to claw at Oliver's arm, and how Oliver would respond by squeezing his windpipe even harder. He watched the life drain from Cooper's eyes in his own mind, and he wasn't sorry. Not even a little bit.

He craved it.

After Oliver found Felicity and made sure she was safe, there was no force on Earth that could keep him away from Cooper Seldon. Even if he had to use his dying breath, Cooper was going to pay for this.

Oliver made it back downstairs just as Digg pulled up, lights and sirens blaring. Oliver hopped into the passenger seat, and Digg whipped back out into the darkened street heading for the precinct.

"I called Lyla," Digg began seriously. "She has everyone out looking. We couldn't find a hint of Cooper all night, but she has the tech analysts we have left zeroing in on this area and getting access to security cameras to find out which way they went."

Oliver shifted in his seat and buckled his seatbelt as Diggle flew down the mostly vacant lanes. "Without Felicity it's going to take longer than normal."

"Don't I know it," Diggle responded gruffly. "It figures that the one thing we need to find Felicity is Felicity herself."

Oliver frowned, the panic trying to claw its way up his throat. _We'll get her back. We'll get her back._ He thought of Cooper's hand on her back while they danced, and the anger beat back the panic again.

Diggle pulled the cruiser into the lot next to the precinct, and Oliver had his door open before Digg even had the car in 'park.' Oliver stalked through the lot and into the building's side entrance – through the locker room – and then into the bullpen. The bustle of activity paused as soon as he entered, all the officers turning to look at him with morose faces. It made Oliver want to slam his fist through a wall.

"What?" he barked, stepping into the center of the room where Chief Michaels and some other officers were coordinating the searches. The crowd subtly shifted back to doing their work, and Oliver was thankful they had only spent a few seconds staring at him as though Felicity was already dead.

She wasn't dead. She couldn't be.

Chief Michaels was focused and calm as she traced her fingers along the map. "Traffic cameras show the vehicle carrying Officer Smoak heading East and getting on the interstate here. We have roadblocks set up at the city limits and he never passed through, so that leaves three possible exits Seldon could have taken." The officers crowded around the chief nodded, and Oliver studied the map for anything familiar. Anything that looked suspicious or jogged his memory. Why had he never really listened to anything Cooper said to him? "Unfortunately, all three exits lead into the Glades and haven't been fitted with traffic cameras yet because of budgetary restrictions. We'll have to split up and canvass all three."

Oliver scrubbed a hand over his face. Three interstate exits. All with dozens of turnoffs to check. Hundreds of buildings and houses. They had to narrow it down if they wanted any hope of finding her. The longer it took, the more likely it was it would be too late.

Chief Michaels started speaking again, but Oliver blocked her out. Instead, he shoved his way out of the crowd and made his way to the tech corner that housed Felicity and Cooper's desks. Maybe he could find something in Cooper's desk that would be a hint. Not caring about destroying the integrity of the desk – which could be considered a crime scene – Oliver started opening drawers, rifling through them, and slamming them shut. There had to be something – a rental receipt, an old picture, an address – _something_ that could give them a lead.

"Oliver," Diggle said as he placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, "we've searched the desk man. There's nothing there."

"Well I'm looking again," Oliver growled, shoving another drawer closed and starting to shuffle through the papers sitting on the desk.

Diggle sighed, then helped Oliver start looking.

Oliver picked up what looked like a purchase order and started to scan it, but was interrupted when his phone started to buzz in his pocket. It was 1:30 in the morning. Not many people would be calling him.

Without breathing, Oliver pulled the phone from his pocket. The caller ID read "unknown," and Oliver used a shaky finger to accept the call. "Felicity?" he called desperately into the phone.

Someone chuckled. "Not quite, but close."

"Seldon you son of a bitch. Where is she?" Oliver's vision tunneled in anger and his heart started to beat so painfully that he could feel it thrumming all the way in his fingertips. Diggle's eyes widened, and he turned around to call for a tech analyst to get over there and start tracing the call.

"She's fine. For now. I actually have a proposition for you."

"Put her on the phone," Oliver demanded.

"Hmmm…" Cooper mused, seeming to be in no hurry. "Maybe."

"I said PUT HER ON THE PHONE!"

"I want you to meet me."

"No chance in hell unless you put. Her. On. The. Phone," Oliver growled. His free hand was clenched so tight onto the edge of the desk that he expected either his hand or the desk was about to break.

Oliver listened, his heart rate going impossibly faster, as he heard a shuffle on the end of the line. He heard a muffled noise – like tape being ripped away from something – then a voice.

"Oliver?"

Oliver hadn't realized how little he'd been breathing until her voice finally allowed oxygen into his lungs. He'd been focusing on his anger, but her voice made him forget what anger even was. All he felt was the panic. The desperation. The fear.

"Felicity," he choked out, trying as hard as he could to keep his feelings out of his voice for her sake. "You're going to be fine. I swear to God, I'm coming and you're going to be ok."

"Oliver!" she called, desperation evident in her voice. "Don't come here! He has -"

Her voice was interrupted by a loud crack and then some subdued shuffling. Oliver could hear her muffled voice protesting, but he couldn't make out any words. He saw red and his whole body shook as the anger returned and eclipsed every other emotion.

"So Oliver, like I was saying, I need you to meet me," Cooper said calmly through the phone.

"I'm going to kill you," Oliver swore.

"I don't doubt it," he mused. "311 Locust Street. You can bring everyone, I know how that works. But only you come inside. I'll slit her throat the second I see anyone else but you."

"Why are you doing this?" Oliver demanded.

"I look forward to catching up." Cooper disconnected the line and left Oliver breathing hard and staring at his phone.

"Did you get a location?" Diggle prompted the analyst who had run over and started a trace on Cooper's own computer.

The analyst nodded. "311 Locust. Just like he said."

Oliver turned to Diggle. "I need your keys."

"Oliver just wait a second. We need to formulate a plan. This is clearly some kind of trap!" Diggle argued.

"I don't care!" Oliver yelled. The whole bullpen stopped what they were doing and turned to look at him. Again. "It's Felicity," he continued more quietly. "I'm going."

Diggle sighed. "Then I'm going too."

Chief Michaels walked up behind them and put a hand on Digg's shoulder. "I'll organize the officers and meet you there. I want you both to stand down until backup gets there though. Is that understood?"

"Got it," Diggle responded. Both Diggle and Chief Michaels looked at Oliver pointedly.

"Is that understood, Detective?"

Oliver clenched his jaw and nodded. He trusted his chief with his life, and he'd never before even considered going against an order she'd given. But he knew if he got to this building where Felicity and Cooper were before anyone else, there was no fucking way he was waiting outside. He wasn't going to stand around waiting while Seldon could be inside hurting her or worse. He'd never forgive himself if something happened to Felicity while he stood outside awaiting backup to save his own skin.

He locked eyes with Diggle, and he knew Digg was reading his thoughts. His partner had a firm set to his mouth and crossed his arms, but he didn't say anything. Oliver hoped to God Digg didn't try to stop him.

Fifteen minutes later, Oliver and Diggle pulled into park in front of a large, seemingly vacant warehouse at 311 Locust Street. Oliver checked that his gun was loaded, then put the weapon back in its holster and reached for the door handle. Adrenaline, anger, and a hint of fear raced through his veins like bleach through a drain – scrubbing everything away until there was nothing left but those emotions overtaking him. Diggle stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"You sure about this man?" Oliver looked at his friend and nodded. Diggle sighed, then reached for his own handle. "Ok, then I'm coming with you."

"No you're not," Oliver snapped, climbing out of the vehicle. Diggle did the same and slammed the door behind him.

"You're not going in there alone," Diggle argued. "We have no idea what his plan is. It could be a suicide mission."

Oliver rounded on his friend. "You can't come in with me!" Diggle crossed his arms, daring Oliver to force him to do otherwise. Oliver ran a hand over his face angrily. "Seldon said I have to go in alone or he'll kill her."

"You know that's a bluff. Besides, I'll stay hidden."

"No, I don't know that's a bluff," Oliver bit back. "And it's not worth risking her. Plus if it is a trap, the last place I want you is in there with me."

"You seriously think I'm going to let you go in there alone? That I'll wait out here while Felicity is in trouble?" Diggle responded, a hint of anger and hurt lacing his tone. Oliver couldn't afford to dwell on it.

"We don't have a choice," he said. An idea hit him then. "I need you to wait out here in case Felicity needs you."

Diggle narrowed his eyes. "I'm listening."

Oliver took his phone from his pocket and pulled up Digg's contact information. "The Chief is bringing the comms, but I'm not waiting. I'll call you right now, then put my phone in my pocket," Oliver explained in a low voice. "You wait out here and listen to what's going on. It could be that he has Felicity somewhere else and you need to find her, or maybe he'll say something important about the case. I don't know. But if it's a trap, you _have_ to be out here so you can hear about it and you can save her."

Oliver could tell Diggle understood and even agreed with the logic, but the look on his friend's face showed he wasn't exactly happy about it. Despite that, he took out his phone and pressed the button to accept Oliver's call. "Everyone else will be here in probably two minutes or less. If you're not out in ten we're coming in."

"Got it," Oliver confirmed. He reached out and shook Diggle's hand. Digg gripped his hand firmly and gave him a meaningful nod. Oliver did the same, and then he turned towards the building.

Before opening the large metal door that led into the warehouse, Oliver took his gun from his holster and clicked the safety off. Just like his training taught him, he threw open the door and hurried in, gun at the ready.

It was dark, and the room he'd entered was large and looming. He could hear the door chose behind him with a loud echo. As his eyes adjusted, he could make out barrels and crates stacked upon shelves making aisles in the room. He stilled and listened for any hints about where to go.

When he looked to his left, he saw a faint glow coming from under a door about thirty feet away. That had to be it.

He quietly made his way to the door and held his ear against it – looking for any hint about what he might find when he opened it. He heard some shuffling and movement, and he heard the same muffled cries he'd heard on the phone. She was in there.

Oliver flung the door open and charged in, gun raised and ready and heart beating so wildly he was surprised he couldn't hear _it_ echoing throughout the warehouse.

The room was lit, and the first thing he saw was Felicity sitting in a chair with her arms bound behind her back and a stretch of duct tape across her beautiful mouth. The side of her face was red, and a dark mark was forming under her eye like she'd been hit. Oliver felt his grip on his gun tighten at the same time as his heart splintered in his chest. He was going to _kill_ Seldon.

Felicity cried out and shook her head from side to side frantically at the sight of him.

The second thing he saw was Cooper emerge from behind a shelf of bins and boxes. He looked relaxed for a dead man.

"I'm glad you made it, Oliver. I was worried you were going to be too late."

"Give me one reason not to kill you right now," Oliver growled, his gun trained right on the man who had already caused so much chaos and pain.

Cooper shrugged and walked behind Felicity, who shrunk away from him as he put his hands on her shoulders. Oliver noticed that the too large t-shirt she was wearing had slipped to the edge of one of her shoulders, so Cooper's hand was touching her skin.

The fiery anger returned full force.

"Get away from her!" he demanded, stepping forward towards them.

Using Felicity to hide his actions, Cooper produced a knife – just as he'd promised – and held it to Felicity's neck. "Not quite yet, Oliver. The plan isn't complete."

"What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?" Oliver snarled, his finger hovering over the trigger on his gun. "What is so messed up in your head that you signed on with Darhk to betray your own people? Your friends?"

Cooper's face twisted. "I didn't have a choice!" he yelled. "I still don't have a choice! I owed him a debt, and this is how he wants to collect it!"

"You should have told him to go fuck himself!" Oliver yelled back. "Maybe you still can. Put the knife down!"

Cooper looked up. "It's too late." The knife played slowly across Felicity's neck, kissing her skin in a way that had her shutting her eyes and Oliver's patience waning. "You guys caused us a lot of headaches. Did you know that? Felicity here was supposed to be dead _yesterday_."

Felicity struggled against Cooper and the man tightened his hold against her shoulders. Oliver didn't say anything in response, he just focused his eyes on Felicity and on the knife positioned at her jugular. His training taught him to never shoot at the target if they were so close to someone else – too many variables could lead to the innocent being hurt. But Oliver swore to himself that if Cooper so much as twitched his fingers, Oliver would bury a bullet in his skull.

"When I heard you guys had found the poison, Ruvé told me to move to plan B which was the hit and run… How you both escaped that, I'll never understand. We killed those morons Thawne hired as soon as they got back for the botched job. But we were mostly calm. We shifted the plans – then that idiot Thawne almost got caught and I had to take him out."

"That was you?" Oliver asked, trying to keep Cooper talking. He hoped to God Diggle was able to make all this out.

"We'd already changed plans," Cooper explained, his eyes darting around trying to recall the memories from the past afternoon. "We couldn't afford for Thawne to spoil them."

"You planted the fake receipt too," Oliver guessed.

"Of course I did," Cooper said, rolling his eyes. "As great as you all think you are, you really aren't that bright when it comes to internal affairs."

"So your new plan, blowing up the SUV, was spoiled too. You're going off script now? Is Daddy Darhk going to like that?"

Cooper paused and stared at Oliver. Felicity cringed, and Cooper _laughed_. The son of a bitch actually laughed. "You think the SUV blowing up was the end of the plan. I thought you were a _good_ detective!" Felicity struggled against Cooper again, and Cooper snapped at her. "Stop moving or I'll slit your throat before the finale!" Felicity stopped moving, and Oliver saw the light catch something glistening on her cheek.

A tear.

She was crying.

Oliver felt his stomach turn to lead and drop down to his feet. What the fuck was going on?

"Oliver, look around! You're standing in a warehouse holding hundreds of gallons of gasoline in the other room. The SUV was a distraction. Unfortunate that you both escaped death there, but not the end of the world. The entire department was always supposed to end up here."

Oliver stopped breathing. Suddenly it all fit. The strange part of the clip of Bertinelli's security footage where Thawne seemed to be giving him some specific directions. The reason the USB drive was left behind with the breadcrumbs about the small explosive material. The car bomb was a red herring so no one would suspect the real endgame – taking out the entire department.

"I can see you putting the pieces together," Cooper mocked.

"Why?" Oliver rasped, resisting the urge to put a hand to his pocket to make sure his phone was turned in the perfect direction to catch his every word. Their best hope was that Diggle had heard and could warn everyone.

"You guys at the department had always been thinking too small. Damien wanted _all of you._ Every single person who works in law enforcement is responsible for what happened to him and his family as far as he was concerned. He'd always planned for the whole department to be gathered in one place and to be taken out by an explosive. The banquet was the obvious target which was why he couldn't go for that. It was always supposed to be Thawne in here at the end, but I suppose Darhk'll kill me anyway if I don't take this one for the team. And at least this way my family will be safe. It won't be long now." Cooper shifted a little, his knife digging slightly into Felicity's skin. She was shaking against him. "Damien wanted the people involved with his case gone first. He wanted those to be more personal. That was why he was so… _disappointed_ when the attempts on Ms. Smoak here failed. Which reminds me, his last direction to me was to make sure she paid before the bomb went off so…sorry Felicity."

Oliver didn't even blink before firing his gun and hitting Cooper right between the shoulder and the neck. Cooper fell backwards, dropping the knife, and Felicity yelled behind her gagged mouth and started scooting her chair away from him. Oliver fired his gun once more, hitting Cooper's prone body in the torso, before running up to Felicity.

He cupped her shaking face and smoothed her hair back. "Hey, it's ok, you're safe," he whispered as he gently peeled the tear stained tape from her mouth.

"Oliver!" she cried as soon as her mouth was free. "There's a bomb in here! I don't know where, but we have to get everyone out!"

"Hold still," he demanded as he reached for the tie behind her back, trying to use the training he'd perfected and shut his emotions completely off.

"What? Oliver, the bomb! You need to just run! I don't know what the timer is set to!"

He leveled her with a glare. "We're getting out together."

Just as he was able to unwind the duct tape from her hands, he heard a noise from his pocket. It must have been Digg trying to get his attention. Oliver pulled Felicity to her feet and stood in front of her assessing her injuries. He ran a thumb along her reddened cheek, wishing more than anything in the world he could have been in her place. "Can you run?" he asked urgently.

"I think," she confirmed, looking down at her feet where she still only wore his socks. He would have laughed if he wasn't so close to crying himself.

Movement caught his eye behind her.

He didn't even think. He just shoved her to the side right as a loud shot rang out and he was thrown backwards. He fell to the floor, a pain piercing the center of his chest and the air leaving his lungs, and Felicity screamed. He heard her struggle with someone. He tried to look up, to get up, but his body was too shocked to move. From where he laid, his body frantically trying to catch its breath, he saw her stand up and aim the gun towards the floor. She fired twice, then dropped the gun and rushed towards him.

"Oh God, oh God," she repeated as she knelt down next to him. "What did he do? Oh God!"

Oliver tried to whisper her name as he lifted his hand to her back, but his body wasn't ready for him to speak yet. He continued to take gasping breaths. Felicity's hand roamed over the front of his shirt, frantically checking for wounds before slipping under the collar. She froze when her fingers touched his Kevlar vest, and he felt the tension seep out of her as she laid her head down on his chest.

"Your vest," she sobbed in relief. "You wore your vest."

Oliver struggled to prop himself up on his elbows, his chest screaming in pain where he was sure to have a bruise from the shot. Her hands rose up to rest on the sides of his neck. "I promised, didn't I?" he managed to rasp between groans. "Seldon -"

"He's dead," she said quickly and surely. He scanned her face, but she didn't look upset. He thought he would feel happy to hear that that piece of shit was dead, but instead he felt only the cool balm of relief. "Oliver, we need to get out of here," she urged, her face twisting into panic. "Are you ok? Can you get up?"

Oliver groaned again, sitting up fully. "Get my phone from my pocket."

"What? There's no time! We need to go!"

Oliver tried to move his hand to his pocket, but quickly realized his body, shaky still from the shock of the gunshot, needed the support. "Felicity," he ground out. "My phone. _Now_."

With a huff, Felicity reached into his pants pocket and retrieved his phone. Her eyebrows furrowed when she saw it was on and connected to Digg's phone. Instead of turning the phone over like he thought she would, she put it on speaker. "Digg?" she called.

"Felicity, thank God," Digg said through the device. "You guys need to get out now! The bomb squad is on the way in and we're in the process of evacuating."

"We're on our way. Oliver was shot."

"What?" Diggle asked, his voice laced with panic.

"It hit the vest," Oliver gritted out. "I'll be fine in a minute."

"We don't know where the bomb is or what kind of timer it's on. You may not have a minute. Get your ass out here _now_!" Diggle commanded.

"Got it," Oliver confirmed, groaning as he moved to stand. Felicity moved to his side to support him and he let his arm fall over her shoulder – careful not to put too much pressure on the arm with the burn. Together they made their way out of the building as fast as they could. Oliver moved more slowly than he would have liked, but Felicity didn't even say a word about how she didn't even have shoes on.

As soon as they exited the front door, paramedics swarmed them and ushered them both onto stretchers. Felicity tried to protest and say she was fine, but they forced her to lie down anyway. Oliver was glad. He wanted her checked for every small injury possible to assure himself she was ok. After she laid down and the EMTs rushed her away, Oliver let himself do the same. All the exhaustion and worry and pain of the past couple of hours finally catching up to him and dragging his eyelids down.

It was over. It was finally over.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N** : There is one chapter left after this! The next one works as an epilogue of sorts and will tie up some loose ends... ;)

 **Chapter 19**

 **9:41 AM; Hour 48**

It was light outside when Oliver opened his eyes again. He knew immediately he wasn't in his own room because of the white walls, soft beeping noises coming from somewhere beside him, and the few wires and IVs sticking out of his arm.

The hospital then.

He looked over, wondering what time it was and where everyone was, and he saw Felicity. She was curled up in a chair next to his bed, sound asleep. She was still wearing his t-shirt and sweatpants, but his socks had been replaced with some bright pink ones – presumably from the hospital. He watched the rise and fall of her chest as she slept, studying her for any signs of injury. The side of her face he could see still sported a small cut from the explosion, but that's all. The other side was the one that had looked like it had been hit. Oliver needed to see. He needed to make sure she was ok.

"Ah, you're awake, Mr. Queen," a nurse whispered as she sailed into the room. "You've been out for a few hours."

Oliver cleared his throat, which felt dry and raw. "Is she ok?"

The woman's brow furrowed. She followed his eyes over to Felicity, and sighed in understanding. "Oh yes. She's ok. Nice little burn on her arm, but she said that was from earlier."

"It was," Oliver confirmed, his eyes not leaving the form of the sleeping blonde.

"Her room is next door, but she kept sneaking over here. We tried to tell her it wasn't allowed, but she's a feisty little thing, so we stopped trying. She wanted me to tell you she was very mean about it."

Oliver snorted and the nurse smirked, shaking her head at Felicity's slumbering body.

"How are you feeling?" the nurse continued, looking at a few of the stats on the monitor beside him. "Sounds like you had a nasty fall, and she said you hit your head a few times."

Oliver remembered being hit from behind and Cooper's boot kicking into his skull. He remembered the blow to his chest as his Kevlar vest blocked the incoming bullet. Neither pain even compared to what he'd felt when he'd woken up and found Felicity missing.

"It's been a rough couple of days," Oliver confirmed.

"Mm-hmm," the nurse hummed. "You've got a healing gunshot wound on your shoulder, bruised ribs from a bullet shot in close range at your chest, and a mild concussion. If I were you, I'd be using another word than just 'rough'."

Oliver looked at the nurse. "Nothing too severe though right? How long will I be stuck here?"

"I'll have to confirm with the doctor. After Ms. Smoak told us about the head injuries, he wanted to make sure we saw the CT results to rule out any bleeding in your brain."

Oliver watched her carefully. He didn't _feel_ like his brain was bleeding. He would know that, wouldn't he?

She caught his eye when she glanced his way for moment amid her typing on a computer near his monitors. "Don't worry, that came back negative. If you follow the concussion protocol we'll give you – minimize screen time and avoid dangerous physical activity that could exacerbate the injury – you should be cleared to go back to your normal activities in a couple of weeks."

Relieved, Oliver relaxed back against the bed. "Was there anyone else who was brought in with us?" he asked.

The nurse looked at him skeptically before turning back to her computer, probably trying to decide how much she could legally tell him without breaching privacy laws. "You two were the only injured patients who came in. There was one DOA, but that was it."

Oliver audibly sighed in relief at that. The team must have found a way to disarm the bomb. No one else had been hurt. Cooper was gone.

Felicity stirred in her sleep. "Oliver?" she mumbled, turning her entire face into the fabric on the back of the chair.

The nurse raised her eyebrows knowingly. "I'm going to go get the doctor," she said easily. "We'll be back shortly."

She left the room just as Felicity mumbled his name in her sleep again, curling her knees up even more into herself. She twitched slightly, and Oliver was almost sure she was having a nightmare. He'd seen that from her before. The thought of being a part of her nightmare made something in his chest throb painfully.

"Felicity," he called. She didn't stir. "Felicity!" he called louder.

She jerked up in much the same way she'd jerked awake from her nightmare the night before. God, had that only been one night ago? It felt like a lifetime. She rubbed her eyes and looked around, taking a minute to remind herself where she was and why. When she saw him, her face lit up and she sat forward.

"Felicity," he choked out in shock when she faced him, seeing the puffy purple flesh around the bottom and side of her eye. He reached his hand towards her and she grabbed it and laid their hands together on the bed.

"I'm ok, Oliver. It looks way worse than it is," she assured. Her voice was light and cheery, just as it always had been.

"He hit you." Oliver lifted his hand from her to run a finger lightly over the top of her cheek where the pink flesh faded into yellows and purples.

"Yes, and I shot him for it, so it's all taken care of," she joked. She scrunched up her nose and looked off to the side. "Well technically I shot him for shooting you, but it all evens out, don't you think?"

"Why are you joking about this?" he asked, his throat thick and his voice heavy. God, he'd almost lost her. More than once.

"Why not joke about it?" she wondered. "It's better than sulking."

"You deserve time to sulk if you want."

"Why would I want to sulk? You do enough of that for both of us," she teased, poking him lightly in the side.

His lips twitched and he let himself relax enough to offer her a small smile. He lowered his hand from her face and grabbed onto hers at his side instead. "So you're ok? You're sure?"

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and smiled. "I'm sure. I should be asking you that, by the way."

"I'm fine thanks to some pain in the ass who made me promise to wear my vest at all times," he said with a smirk.

She feigned outrage and smacked gently at his hand. "Hey, this pain in the ass saved your life so you should be grateful."

"I am," he said, suddenly serious. He let his eyes bore into hers, hoping she'd understand he wasn't joking anymore. "You saved my life twice last night."

She smiled, staring right back at him. "You saved mine more than once this weekend too. So again, I think it evens out."

He offered her a small smile, then sighed. "So what happened last night? Everyone's ok?"

She scooted a little closer in her seat. "After they brought us out, the bomb squad found the bomb hidden in the back. Apparently bomb making wasn't Cooper's forte because they said it was actually pretty easy to diffuse. We were both brought here, and uh, Cooper was taken to the morgue." She looked down, her eyes showing her discomfort, then she masked it and looked back at him.

"Hey, you know you didn't have a choice."

"I know," she said quietly. "I wish there had been another way, but there wasn't."

Oliver thanked whatever God was out there somewhere that she'd been strong enough in that moment to wrestle the gun away from the wounded rat and end it all. If she hadn't, Cooper's next bullet could have been to Oliver's head or it could have hit her. Neither of which would have been ideal.

"Anyway, the bomb was dismantled, Cooper was neutralized, and Darhk and his wife have both been taken to maximum security prison to wait for their initial hearings with strict orders that they can have no contact with each other or the outside world," she summarized, the haunted look leaving her face. "I think we really did it."

"We make a good team," Oliver confirmed.

Felicity beamed at him, and he couldn't help but smile in response. She was everything that was good, and kind, and wonderful about the world. Even though the case had come to an end, the idea that someone had tried to take her from the world was something he was going to need more time to process.

"You know," she started casually, looking down and playing with his fingers, "I think this weekend proved that you've been wrong all along."

"How's that?" he asked, indulging her.

Her lips twitched. "Well, you said the best cops don't care. They follow orders and they don't go off script because of their emotions."

He raised his eyebrows in challenge. "That's because it's true."

"I don't think so," she said with a shake of her head. "If you'd done that, I'd probably be dead."

Oliver opened his mouth to protest, but then slammed it shut. She was right. Of course she was right. He'd charged into that building despite Chief Michaels' direct order not to do so because the thought of anything happening to her while he waited was unbearable. He hadn't acted logically, he'd acted emotionally. In fact, when he thought about it now, he'd been letting his emotions control him since the moment they realized Felicity was a target in all this. And maybe she was right. Maybe that was the reason they'd survived all those close calls.

Because they cared enough to go beyond the normal boundaries to keep each other safe.

She was watching him carefully, something unreadable in her eyes.

"You know I care about you, right?" he said abruptly. He watched her face soften as she nodded. His mind screamed at him that he was lying. That he wasn't saying enough. That there was more he wanted to tell her about how he felt about her.

But he couldn't. Not right now.

He'd kissed her, and it hadn't been fair. He'd almost ruined everything by moving too fast during a situation that had them both emotional and off balance. He'd pushed too far, and she'd regretted it. He'd seen it on her face.

He wanted to kiss her again.

God he wanted to kiss her again, but he'd have no chance if he started moving too fast again. He was still getting used to what it meant to have her as a close friend – and to openly admit it. He needed to take his time before going past that or he would fuck it up. The thought of fucking it up – of losing her in any way, physically or emotionally – left more of a sting than any of the injuries he'd suffered all weekend.

So instead, he'd spend time being her friend. He'd stop holding her at arm's length and keeping her in the "work" compartment in his brain. He'd been such an ass to her, denying just two days ago that they were even friends. He'd make it up to her now though. He'd ask her to get coffee with him. He'd text her when he saw something that reminded him of her. He'd show her that maybe he could be worth her time.

And _maybe_ someday she'd let him kiss her again.

"Felicity?" he asked, his voice more tentative than he wished it was.

"Hmm?"

He cleared his throat. "I was thinking…when I get out of here, would you like to come over for dinner so I can introduce you to the landlord?"

She threw her head back and laughed. It was the most beautiful sound he could ever remember hearing.

48 hours. In law enforcement, they were taught that 48 hours is all it takes for a trail to go cold. But for Oliver, 48 hours now held a different meaning. 48 hours was the amount of time it took to wake him up from the lonely and isolated existence he was living. 48 hours had been what he'd needed to reexamine his priorities and decide what he wanted.

48 hours had been all it took to change his life.

And although these past two days had meant the end of lives – for ADA Lance, officers Yamashiro and Ramirez, and Cooper Seldon – Oliver couldn't help but think that it had been like the first 48 hours of the rest of his.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N:** Thank you so much to everyone who left a comment or liked the story! It made me feel good to know people were enjoying it along the way. :) Enjoy the final chapter! We've waited long enough for it...

 **Chapter 20**

 **7:15 PM; Day 35 After The Case**

Today had been long. Oliver had never enjoyed court proceedings. If he did, he'd have gone into _law_ like his mother wanted instead of _law enforcement_ like his mother begged him not to. So naturally, spending an entire day in a courtroom watching the prosecutor show evidence sample after evidence sample got to be pretty tiring.

He unlocked his door and stepped inside. He shrugged off the light jacket he'd been wearing in place of his winter coat ever since the beginning of March had brought with it slightly warmer temperatures. He hung the jacket from one of the newly installed hooks on the wall right inside the door – something Felicity had convinced him to invest in because the placement of his coat closet across the room wasn't conducive to hanging up snow-covered coats and rain-pelted jackets.

"That went faster than I expected today," Felicity hummed as she stepped into his apartment behind him and hung up her jacket on the hook next to his. Her heels clicked against the floor as she moved. The sound had become so familiar to his space in the past month that it no longer echoed deafeningly. Now it blended into the background noise of his mind as if it had always been there.

It had been 35 days since the closing of the Darhk case. 35 days since Damien and his wife had sought to destroy the entire department, and 35 days since they'd almost succeeded. During that time, Damien and Ruvé had been held in isolation with minimal contact with the outside world as they awaited their trials – which had been fast tracked because of the nature of the case and how public it had been.

When Oliver had gotten home from the hospital less than a day after being admitted, he'd been shocked to see the level of media coverage surrounding the case. The complexity of the plot and how the department had simultaneously saved one of their own and a portion of the city from destruction had captivated the minds of the media. The fascination turned out to be good in the sense that the state was hard pressed to cut their funding during all the positive press they were receiving. No one had lost their jobs due to budget cuts, and some of them – including Chief Michaels, Felicity, and himself – had even been honored with special commendations.

What the media coverage _wasn't_ good for was helping him forget about some of the more horrific details of what they'd endured. As he'd sat next to Felicity during the funerals for Laurel Lance, Maseo Yamashiro, and Rene Ramirez, he couldn't stop imagining her in the casket in front of him. When he'd seen replays of the SUV exploding and the throngs of police vehicles flying towards the warehouse where Cooper and Felicity were, he couldn't stop remembering how close he'd come to losing her. For her part, Felicity always seemed to notice when his mind was wandering into dark places and would take his hand to remind him that she was there. She hadn't gone anywhere.

It had been 35 days since the violence ended, and, thankfully, every day got easier.

"That prosecutor was really good," Felicity mused as she slipped her shoes off and walked into his kitchen like she owned it. She opened a cabinet and took down two wine glasses. "I don't see any way the jury can go easy on the Darhks after the case he presented."

Oliver walked up beside her and grabbed a bottle of wine from the wine fridge below the kitchen island. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. The defense still has to present their case."

"Oh I know," Felicity chirped. "I'm excited to see how they're going to try to discredit us and claim the Darhks were so overcome with grief that they lose their minds."

Oliver smirked and popped the cork on the wine. "Excited? It doesn't take much for you, does it?"

Felicity laughed and shoved his shoulder – which had healed just as well as her burns had, leaving barely a scar. "You know I take my entertainment where I can get it." Felicity thanked him when he finished filling her glass with the deep red wine, then lifted it to her lips. Her eyes closed in pleasure when she tasted the liquid. She'd told him once that red wine was one of the few things she needed in order to be happy, and she hadn't lied. Oliver had learned that pretty quickly.

It had been 36 days since Oliver had kissed her on his couch.

He'd thought about that kiss during every one of those 36 days, but he hadn't tried to kiss her again.

He wanted to kiss her again. The desire at this point was turning into a need that was clawing its way through his subconscious. Every time she came over for dinner, every time she smiled at him, every time her face turned that delicious shade of pink when she realized she'd said something inappropriate, he wanted to cover her mouth with his and show her how much he wanted to kiss her.

He'd restrained himself because he didn't want to ruin things between them. Over the past month, they'd fallen into a comfortable pattern. Oliver invited her over for dinner a few times a week, they went out for lunch at work more often than not, and they talked daily outside of work. Oliver depended on seeing her and talking to her more than he had with _anyone_ in a long time. For years, he'd operated as a lone wolf. He'd told himself he couldn't get attached because it would only lead to pain. Once he'd allowed himself to admit he already _was_ attached to her though, it seemed only natural that he embrace it.

The feeling he got from being near her was unlike anything he'd felt. Ever. She made him feel light, and relaxed, and _happy_. When he got to work with her on cases during the day, she kept him sharp and challenged him. When he saw her outside of work she helped him unwind and remember that life was more than just a job. He knew what the feeling she gave him was called, but it wasn't something he'd been brave enough to tell her.

He _needed_ her now. And that scared him.

Neither had mentioned the kiss again after that fateful night. Oliver remembered that kiss like it had happened only minutes ago. He remembered her soft, firm lips colliding with his. He remembered the smell of his shampoo in her hair invading his senses. He remembered how hot her skin had been beneath his touch. But he also remembered the look on her face after. He recalled how she'd carefully covered her emotions – obviously to not hurt his feelings – and how she'd looked regretful when he'd apologized for kissing her.

Since then, they'd danced around it, but with each passing day, Oliver felt the need to address the elephant in the room growing. The magnetic pull that always resulted in their bodies ending up a little too close to each other hadn't faded – it had only gotten stronger the more it was ignored. Acting like nothing had happened made him feel like the words he wanted to say were a bottle of champagne, and every time he swallowed them down was like shaking that bottle. One of these days the cork was going to explode out the end, and he wasn't sure how he'd stop the bubbles of his emotions once it did. Despite what he was feeling and what he thought she was feeling too, any time a conversation turned suggestive or the mood between them shifted and thickened, Felicity would pull back with a strange look on her face.

Oliver didn't know what to make of it, but he knew for certain that no matter how much he wanted to, he wouldn't kiss her again until he was sure it was what she wanted.

"I've been going over what questions they'll probably ask me and practicing my answers," she announced, taking a sip of her wine. "I don't want to babble on the stand."

"I'd like to see you babble. It would liven things up a bit," Oliver teased. "During the proceedings yesterday I was afraid Darhk would get what he'd wanted because I'd die from boredom."

Felicity laughed and took another sip of her wine. "Always so dramatic."

"No, just honest."

She gave him a pointed look, and he smirked as he took a drink of his wine. He'd invited her over for a glass of wine a few times in the past month, and he'd quickly learned that as much as Felicity loved wine, she didn't have a very high tolerance. After only a glass, her face usually flushed a bit and she got even more giggly than usual – something that delighted him. Sober Felicity was fun, but tipsy Felicity was like pure, unfiltered brightness. He watched her with a warm feeling blooming in his chest as she finished her first glass and poured herself a little more – muttering something about "just a small glass."

"I talked to Mr. Steele this morning," Oliver began lightly, changing the subject to something he'd been waiting to tell her all day. Mr. Steele was the owner of the building. Oliver had kept his word and introduced him to Felicity over dinner a few weeks ago, and Felicity had charmed the socks off the older man just as Oliver had known she would.

Felicity's mouth dropped open a little, and her eyes lit up with hope. "And?" Oliver shrugged and tried to stop his lips from twitching. Tipsy Felicity was also very fun to tease because it was easier to get under her skin than Sober Felicity. Her eyes narrowed. "Stop teasing me, Oliver. What did he say?"

"Well, he said Mrs. Poole on the third floor's lease is up at the end of the month, and that she just told him she's going to move in with her daughter instead of renewing."

He watched her face as the reality of what he'd said registered in her brain. When she understood, she squealed in delight and threw her hands up to cover her mouth.

Unfortunately for her, she forgot she was still holding her wine glass. At the sudden movement, the freshly poured wine slid up and over the edge of her glass and spattered all over the front of her dress. She squeaked again, but for a different reason.

"Oh my God!" she yelled, her face falling in shock at what she'd done while Oliver burst into laughter. "This is not funny!"

Her shocked, wine-flushed face and wide eyes combined with the large spot of red wine that had splattered on the front of her light green dress was more than he could take. He shouldn't have laughed, but she was just so damn adorable looking like that that he couldn't stop himself. He set his glass down as the laughs came from deep in his gut and he had to put a hand on his diaphragm to try to calm down.

"You're horrible!" Felicity accused, her voice threatening to dissolve into laughter and holding no edge to it. "Stay here. I'm stealing another one of your t-shirts."

She disappeared around the corner towards the bedrooms, and Oliver's laughter dissolved quickly. A feeling of anticipation started building in the back of his mind like a flashing warning signal. She hadn't worn his clothes once in the past 35 nights. This wouldn't be good for the restraint he was already having trouble holding on to.

A few minutes later she emerged wearing another one of his oversized t-shirts and rolled sweatpants. Her hair still fell loosely around her shoulders like it had been when she wore the dress, but the wide neck of the shirt threatened to slip over her shoulder just like his other t-shirt had a tendency to do. Oliver's mouth went dry.

"I can't _believe_ you laughed at me for spilling wine all over myself," she said in mock outrage as she approached him. "Now I get a free pass to laugh at you the next time you do something embarrassing." She pointed a finger at him and jabbed it lightly into his chest. She pursed her lips and looked off to the side. "Actually you rarely do embarrassing things, so I might have to figure out something else for my revenge."

Feeling emboldened by her closeness, her touch, and her open and teasing eyes, Oliver wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her hand from his chest. "I think that outfit is revenge enough," he answered, his voice deeper than normal.

The shift happened then. The one that came almost every time she found herself at his house late at night. The one that had the bubbly and friendly air between them evaporating and being replaced with something thick and charged. The one that made his eyes snap to hers and hers to his. The one that made her tongue dart out and lick her lips in a way that had his blood pounding through his veins.

"You're right, it barely fits and makes me look like I'm drowning in fabric."

"That's _far_ from the problem," Oliver responded, using his grip on her wrist to pull her a little closer and reveling in the energy that poured into him when he could feel the heat from her body.

Felicity's eyelids looked heavy as they darted to his lips and then back up to his eyes. Then that strange look crossed her face – the one that he'd seen _every time_ they'd found themselves like this in the past month – and she pulled back from him.

He didn't release her wrist, and she didn't pull it from his grasp, but she looked away from him and bit her lip while running a hand through her hair.

"I should probably go."

Oliver was tired. He was tired of the dance routine. He was tired of avoiding. He'd known for 36 days that he wanted more with her, and he was tired of not telling her.

Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the slight stress of reliving everything from the case today at the trial. Maybe it was the sight of her in his clothes. But Oliver decided he was done tiptoeing.

"Why?" he challenged.

Her eyes snapped to his, something he didn't recognize in them. "You know why."

"Actually, I don't."

She pursed her lips, that unreadable expression changing to one of fire. "Because I can't take the back and forth, Oliver."

"What are you talking about?"

She looked like he felt. Like there were words she'd been biting back that were about to explode to the surface. She sighed in frustration. "I'm talking about how you can't make up your mind. First we're not friends, then you care about me, then you kiss me, then you're sorry about it, then we're friends. Stop acting like a yo-yo!"

Oliver's mouth fell open and Felicity's face turned pink. "Sorry," she said hastily, some of the fire leaving. "You're one of my best friends. I'm not trying to make things complicated. I just…I think I should go."

"You have no idea, do you?" Oliver demanded, stepping closer to her. "What I feel about you?"

She lifted her chin defiantly. "How am I supposed to know what you feel about me? You specifically told me we weren't friends – which I never believed by the way – then a day later you were kissing me like I was the last kiss you'd ever have. And it was a _great_ kiss too. Mind-blowing, life changing, all that. Then you tell me you're _sorry_ you kissed me and never mention it again!"

"I was sorry because I took advantage of the situation when I kissed you!" Oliver defended. "You'd spent two days being targeted by a murderer!"

" _THEN_ ," Felicity went on, ignoring him, "we spend a month in this limbo where you keep pulling me in. You invite me over, you cook for me, you text me and you keep acting like you want to kiss me again, but you never do. So I'm not going there, Oliver! I'm not going there with you only for you to regret it again."

Oliver's mouth fell open like he'd been slapped. "You think _I_ regret kissing you?"

She removed her hand from his and crossed her arms. She raised an eyebrow, daring him to contradict her. "That's usually what 'I'm sorry' means."

"I didn't want you to regret kissing _me_!" he said disbelievingly. "I didn't want you to think I pressured you into moving too fast because there was so much going on. How could I regret kissing you when I'm fucking _in love_ with you?!"

She sucked in a breath and stared at him with wide eyes. "What?"

Oliver stepped towards her and put his hands on her face to force her to look at him. "I'm in love with you. I've felt it since the case – maybe even before – and it hasn't gone away. I didn't tell you because I was scared that after everything you'd been through that you'd feel pressured. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable, but I can't keep doing this. Every time I _look at you_ I want to kiss you. Every time you speak I think about what it felt like, and I -"

He didn't get to finish because she raised up on her toes and smashed her lips against his.

He'd dreamed every day of kissing her again, but his imagination didn't come close to the real thing. Her lips were just as soft and warm as he remembered, and her mouth tasted like sweet wine. He kissed her back eagerly, letting his lips re-familiarize themselves with hers. Her hands wound around his neck and his worked themselves so one held her back and one rested in her hair on the back of her head.

She tilted her head a little and let her tongue play with his lips, and he pulled back, already breathing hard.

He looked at her, smoothing the hair from her face. Her eyes fluttered open, and the crystal blue of them looked impossibly darker. It lit him on fire.

"You're sure?" he questioned, searching her eyes for any ounce of hesitation.

"Oliver," she whispered. "If you want to kiss me and I want to kiss you, why aren't we kissing right now?"

Oliver didn't need to be told twice. He crowded forward into her space and nudged her back until her back hit the kitchen island, attacking her lips with his own and prying them open so that they could mold into one. Their noses brushed as their lips moved together, and Felicity arched her body so that she was separated from him only by their clothes.

His hands roamed down her back, and she gasped when they slid down her hips and around to her upper thighs. Without breaking away from her, he expertly lifted her up so that she was sitting on the countertop and he could step in between her legs.

She responded by kissing him even more urgently, her tongue darting into his mouth. It was warm and wet, and Oliver lost his ability to think for a moment when it ran over his tongue. His skin was on fire, his chest was aching because his heart was beating so quickly, and he was pretty sure half the blood in his body had already rushed south.

Needing air, he tore his mouth from hers and placed in on her neck. Her delicious neck that he'd wanted to taste for _weeks_.

The flesh there didn't disappoint. She tilted her head and gasped as he attached his mouth to the curve of it just below her ear. He let his teeth nip at her slightly salty skin and then smoothed it over with his tongue and lips, making her breathe hard with his name slipping out in a whisper.

It was the single sexiest thing he'd ever heard in his life.

His dick twitched painfully as she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer. Her hands slipped under his shirt and started to explore the muscles of his stomach, branding a path on his skin in their wake. As he continued to kiss her neck, wanting to taste her forever, she rocked against him and caused a delicious friction when his hard length hit against the juncture of her sweatpants covered thighs.

They both sucked in a breath at the sensation that sent sparks flying through his bloodstream. Felicity pulled back slightly and looked at him. She seemed to be considering something, and raised her hand to run her fingers across his stubble and over his lips gently. Not able to stop himself, he nipped at them lightly, and she smiled.

Then she pushed at his chest, forcing him to back away from her. His mind raced as he watched her hop down off the countertop and stand in front of him. The blood thrummed painfully through him as she bit her lip and looked at him. What was happening. Did she want to stop?

Her voice was breathless when she spoke. "These pants don't really fit."

Oliver swore he stopped breathing when she hooked her fingers around the rolled elastic of the sweatpants and slid them to the floor. The large t-shirt slipped down to quickly cover her lacy underwear, but her creamy legs were bare before him. She stepped out of the pants, then backed up so she was hitting against the kitchen island again. She looked at him biting her lip, her flushed cheeks turning impossibly pinker.

Whatever control he'd had snapped. He stepped up against her, lifted her back onto the counter, and attacked her lips again. He kissed her like she was the first drop of rain he'd seen after spending a month in the desert. He ran his hands over her smooth legs and urged her to hook her feet around his back. She complied, and she gasped when the new position let his painfully hard length hit against her even more intimately.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Oliver swore against her lips. "If we don't stop now, I might not be able to."

Her eyelids fluttered and she stared at him seriously, her face only inches from his. "Who said you had to stop?"

"Don't tempt me, Felicity."

She responded by tightening her legs around his waist and pulling him impossibly closer. They both groaned when their lower bodies smashed together and the soft skin of her thighs squeezed against his tented pants and the hardness beneath them. He could feel her heat even between their clothing and he had to slam his eyes shut to keep from grinding into her like some kind of eager teenager.

She smoothed her hands over his face and onto his neck. "I'm not going to change my mind," she vowed in a whisper. "Also, I lost some clothing, so it's only fair that you do too." She moved her hands down to grip the front of his shirt. He understood what she wanted, and he was helpless against her. Probably because he wanted the same thing. He raised the shirt over his head, and she smiled brilliantly at him. "Now we're even."

He kissed her again and whispered against her lips, "Not for long."

He continued to kiss her, letting his hands rest against the bare skin of her hips, the bottoms of his palms resting against the lace uniting the underwear around her legs. Her hands roamed over his chest and back, now bared to her touch. Everywhere she moved sent little shocks straight to his center and made his mind fog over with want. She let her fingers trace tenderly over the scars on his abdomen where he'd been shot a year ago.

He moved his hands up, bunching the t-shirt as he went until her stomach was exposed before him and the shirt was gathered just underneath her breasts. Frustrated by his slow pace, she huffed and tore her mouth from his so she could whip the shirt over her head. Then she grabbed his face and pulled it back to hers like she was starving and he was the first bite of food she'd seen in days.

Their torsos smashed together with even more skin now touching. The lace of her bra scraped against his chest and created a delicious friction as her heaving breaths raised her breasts up and down. He let his hands roam up her abdomen, inching towards her breasts, and she nipped at his lip with her teeth in return.

After kissing her lips and touching her stomach with his fingertips was no longer enough, Oliver moved his mouth to kiss along her neck. She leaned back on the island supporting herself with her arms to give him better access as he worked his way around her collarbone. When he reached the strap of her lacy pink bra, he nudged it with his nose until the strap fell over her shoulder, making the cup gape open just enough that he could see the top of one of her dusky nipples.

Felicity was breathing hard, the flush in her face extending all the way down to her chest. Her eyes were closed in pleasure, and Oliver was sure he'd never seen anything so breathtaking.

But he needed his mouth on her more fully, so he reached behind her back and snapped her bra open. She sucked in a breath as he slid his mouth down. The stubble on his jaw prickled as he dragged it over her skin, and his chin nudged at the cup of her bra until it fell out of the way. Oliver quickly scrapped the material and attached his mouth to her breast. He lathered the perfect flesh with kisses before licking a path right to her erect nipple. She cried out when he sucked the nub into his mouth and played it across his tongue and teeth. After a minute, he switched attention to the other, marveling at how good she tasted and how perfectly she fit in his mouth.

She rolled her hips against him, and he groaned against her nipple.

"Oliver," she gasped, pulling at his chin so he would look at her. "I need more."

He didn't need to be told twice. He moved his mouth back up her collarbone towards her neck while his hands slowly moved down. When he reached her hips, he rotated his hands so that they were resting against her upper thighs and his thumbs were brushing the lacy underwear covering her center. Her breaths stuttered when he let his thumb ghost over the top of the lace where he knew her opening was. Then he hooked the thumb under the edge of the lace and pulled it to the side.

She groaned as the air came into contact with her flesh, and Oliver suppressed a groan at the sight of the wetness already pooled there. He used his free hand to run his index finger through her wet, puffy folds. When the finger hit against her clit, she cried out and reached forward to wrap an arm around his shoulder. Taking her reaction as encouragement, he pulled his face from her neck and watched her face as he shifted his hand so that his thumb was pressing against the sensitive nub at the same time as he pushed his index finger inside of her.

She whispered something unintelligible and slammed her eyes shut. He moved the finger slightly out and then back in, watching her reaction. Her face flushed even redder and her mouth dropped open in a small 'O'.

God, she was so fucking perfect.

"Shut up," she mumbled, her mouth twisting into an amused smile. He smiled back, assuming he'd spoke out loud, and then kissed her.

He let his fingers tease her for a few minutes, reveling in how slick and tight she was against his fingers and cataloging the sounds she made every time he touched a new place or changed his pace. He kissed her hungrily while his fingers explored her, and she held him close the whole time, her breasts pressed flush against him and her deliciously hardened nipples scraping across his skin every time she writhed against him.

He knew she was getting close when her body started to tremble slightly beneath his touch. Abruptly, she grabbed his hand and moved it out of her. "Not like this," she rasped against his lips. "I want you with me." Before he could respond, she latched her lips onto his and started fiddling with his belt. When she had it undone and started to pull on his zipper, he stopped her.

"I need to go get a condom, and we should probably move this somewhere else," he whispered. He wanted her comfortable, and he didn't want her to think all he wanted from her was a quick fuck on the kitchen counter.

She smoothed a hand over his eyebrow and smiled. "No, here. It's fitting, don't you think? Go get it. I'll be here when you get back."

Oliver tried to calm his breathing as he kissed her nose and fingers. He promised her he'd only be a second, then ducked into the bathroom. He found a condom and was back in the kitchen in record time. The sight of her sitting on the counter in nothing but her underwear and a pair of his socks almost made him come right then and there. He set the foil wrapper on the counter next to her and stepped back between her legs. They both sighed when their skin came back into contact.

"Oliver," she said, running her nose along his neck and jaw. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm wearing a lot less than you are."

"I've noticed," he choked out, one hand around her back as the other curled between them and cupped her breast.

"Are you going to fix it?" she urged. Her calf hitched up over his hip and started trying to nudge his pants down. He chuckled against her and moved back a little from her. He finished lowering his zipper, and then gripped the edge of his pants and boxer briefs together. He pulled them all down at once, biting back a hiss when his hard length sprung free and was hit full on with the heat radiating between her thighs.

She licked her lips as he stepped out of his pants, then reached forward to pull him into her hands. He groaned when her soft hands made contact with his flesh, her thumb swiping over the tip and spreading the moisture there down. He braced his hands on the counter next to her and let his head fall into the crook of her neck as she wrapped her small hands around him and familiarized herself with the feel. He couldn't remember ever being harder than he was right now.

Her fingers scraped lightly down his shaft, and when he felt her hands fist around him, he almost choked on his own tongue. "Felicity," he ground out, warning her that he wouldn't last long if she kept doing that.

"Ok, ok," she chided sweetly, her voice breathless but somehow still musical. She reached over and tore the wrapper off the condom, then rolled it over his length. The latex squeezed against him, and he hissed as her fingers lingered on his skin. She moved to capture his lips with her own then, and he banded his arm around her back. As gently as possible, he lifted her up enough to use his other hand to drag her soaked underwear down. She pulled her knee up and towards her body to help him out until her leg was free of the lace, then did the same on the other side. He tossed the last fabric barrier between them to the floor.

She scooted closer to the edge of the counter, wrapping her arms around his shoulders again and letting her face align with his – their noses and lips touching, their breaths coming out in pants and mixing together. Oliver gripped one hand under her knee and lifted her leg higher on his hip so he could step closer. His length throbbed as it met her warm folds, slipping between them slightly and making them both breathe harder.

He looked into her eyes, silently waiting for her direction. Her eyes were hooded when she met his and nodded.

Oliver pushed into her and they both cried out at the sensation. She was so soft and warm and tight. Her walls fluttered around him and he buried his face into her neck while he tried to get control of himself. Felicity rolled her hips against him, begging him to move. He pulled his hips back, pulling out of her almost entirely, and then gently plunged back in. She sighed in pleasure, and he used the position of his face against her neck to start kissing her again.

They fell into a rhythm easily. He pulled out, then pushed back in and she arched her back to meet him. Her nipples scraped across his chest, and the friction between their joined bodies sent sparks of pleasure to the base of his spine. She panted and whispered his name, and her head bobbed when he moves up to kiss under her ear.

Oliver wanted her everywhere. He wanted to be inside her, he wanted her in his hands and on his mouth. He wanted the smell of her ingrained in his nostrils and he wanted the sight of her lost in pleasure burned behind his eyelids. He wanted to hear her scream his name over and over again.

He knew she was close when her walls started to pulse around him and her cries got louder with every thrust. He knew he was moments away from coming undone, and he wanted her with him. Concentrating as much as possible through his Felicity induced haze, he reached a hand between them and rolled her clit between his thumb and forefinger just as he slammed into her.

She shouted his name and her muscles clenched around him, triggering his own reaction. He groaned, her name on his lips, as he pulsed inside her and emptied himself into the plastic barrier between them. Their waves synchronized and he held her close, his mouth meeting hers. He kissed her through it, her breath catching multiple times as he hit places inside her while she was still throbbing and coming down from her high.

He kissed her as her muscles turned to jello around him and she locked her ankles around his back for support. He kissed her despite her protests when he pulled out of her – leaving them both feeling like something was missing – and removed the condom. He kissed her when he pulled her close, snuggling her body against his where she sat, unwilling to move from this moment.

When a few minutes had passed and the fever had started to subside, he was acutely aware that they were standing in the middle of the kitchen completely naked except for her socks – and he didn't give a damn. "Felicity?"

"Mm-hmm?" she hummed, her eyes still closed as she dragged her nose down his neck and dropped a kiss there.

"It's late," he started.

She looked at him, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "It is."

He ran his lips across her cheek and towards her ear. "You probably shouldn't be out in a cab this late."

"Mmm. Nope."

He nipped at her chin playfully and then sucked her bottom lip between his own when her mouth fell open. She kissed him back lazily, her mouth smiling.

"Maybe you should stay here," he proposed.

"Hmm…if you say so." She stilled suddenly, her eyes popping open. Startled, Oliver froze and looked at her. She reached her hands up and placed them on either side of his face, her eyes urgent. "Oliver, I forgot to tell you something."

Oliver's heart started to beat painfully in anticipation. Why did she look stricken? He cleared his throat. "Yeah?"

She looked seriously at him, her eyes searching his. "I was so busy attacking you that I forgot to tell you I'm in love with you too. What is wrong with me! I should have said that…" Oliver missed whatever she said next because there was a rushing in his ears and his chest felt like it was splitting open with happiness. She loved him back. It didn't seem possible, but this amazing, genius, beautiful woman loved him back. "…probably think I'm some kind of-"

"God I love you," Oliver interrupted, slamming his mouth over hers. She squealed against his lips when he lifted her into his arms and carried her away from the kitchen and towards the bedroom.


End file.
